


Pseudonyms and Soulmates

by justanoutherfangirl



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fluffy Ending, Pseudonyms, Soul Mates AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-04
Updated: 2016-01-09
Packaged: 2018-04-24 17:55:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 25,511
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4929490
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justanoutherfangirl/pseuds/justanoutherfangirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bellarke Soul Mates AU  - Where the name of your soulmate is available on your 18th birthday, provided they haven't claimed your name already.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Clarke went and asked for her soul mates’ name on her eighteenth birthday. She simply couldn’t risk that if she waited, they might go and collect it… she couldn’t bear the frustration, the lack of control she would have if she didn’t know. 

Of course, there was always the chance that they’d already turned eighteen and knew her name. And she would never, ever know theirs for sure. She’d be reduced to trusting that they were telling her the truth; that she was indeed their soul mate – not just someone they were using until their real soul mate came along and she’d be left alone and broken. Honestly, after her pleasant little experience with Finn Collins a little over six months ago, she doubted she’d ever believe someone telling her that she was their match made in heaven or whatever. 

The Names Office had hard wooden floors and at least a hundred people sitting in the big squashy chairs, most clinging to a small piece of paper with a number attached. It seemed that although some of the people there had brought friends, most were, like Clarke, alone. Three or so were in their early twenties easily, two women with un naturally red hair and running mascara, and a tanned man with dark curls who just stared at the wall in front of them – they’d clearly given up on an old-school romance dream, but almost everyone appeared to be 18 like Clarke. She didn’t doubt that today was either the day of their birthday or the day after – most people who were going to collect their name at eighteen didn’t waste a lot of time. 

Clarke strode as confidently as she could manage to the ticket dispenser and pulled out her number. 309 stared back at her, and glancing at the number up on the board (213) she knew she was in for a big wait. She settled herself into one of the seats – they were every bit as comfy as they looked, probably to help the kids there feel a little more at home – and began to wait. 

A solid hour later she was deathly bored and the number on the board had only crawled its way up to 260. What on earth was taking so long, she would never understand. Some people went into those offices looking as though they suddenly thought they were going six feet under, but they all seemed to emerge with great smiles. The smile of someone who knew the name of their soul mate and was off to start their wonderful new life together. A few came out with tears unshed in their eyes, and still more with tears catching the light on their eyelashes and cheeks. Some of these people clearly came out empty handed, without the official, thick, creamy paper that held their soul mate’s name, but interestingly, more of them held the paper. Clarke supposed that they’d come out holding the wrong name – not the name of their boyfriend or their crush. She was glad that it was impossible for that to happen to her, as she was currently boyfriend-less and crush-less. Still, she felt nerves flutter through her belly. What if she got a name that she recognised? Then she’d have to go home and explain to them that she was their soul mate. That she had never felt anything for them before in her life, but now felt obligated to try. 

The minutes slowly ticked past, bringing her closer to knowing. Despite her nerves, part of her held firm that she’d be better off. Once she knew what her problem was, she could tackle it. If she knew the person, well… at least she could start trying to feel something for them. If she didn’t know the person, she could keep her eye out for them, look them up, add them on Facebook… something. 

She just needed to know which problem to solve. 

Finally, her number was called. She jumped slightly, then stood, trying to recover her dignity a little. Today she was strong, and being strong meant looking strong. 

“Just through here, hon.” The secretary smiled at her, eyes soft. Clearly the monotony of her job hadn’t broken her yet, as she still looked at Clarke like it was the most important thing in her whole world that Clarke found what she was looking for. 

“Thanks.” Clarke flashed her a smile, although she felt nothing like smiling. The moment was getting to her, she knew. She stepped into the tiny office indicated. There sat an old lady, the type who looked like she had always planned to be a nurse and had turned left instead of right on the way to classes and ended up doing something else entirely. She had her steely hair scraped up into a perfect bun, and her brown eyes had a soft, faded quality to them. 

“Hello, I’m Paula.” She smiled slightly, and Clarke smiled back. 

“Clarke Griffin.” 

“Okay…” The old lady fiddled with the computer at a glacial rate. Finally, she nodded to herself, and Clarke heard the printer cough to life behind her. “You’ll like his name – got a good bit of alliteration happening.” Clarke grinned hugely. In just a few seconds, after she’d signed for it, she would know. For better or for worse, at least she would know. 

“Just sign here, then run over and grab the paper and you’re done.” Paula held out a pen and tapped the dotted line on an official looking document. For just a second, Clarke considered not signing, apologising for wasting Paula’s time and going home. However, it was only a second and then she was back to herself. She took the pen, and began to sign. 

However, she’d only finished her first name when the computer started making the most horrendous beeping noise she’d ever heard. It was worse than her alarm on a Monday morning. 

“Stop!” Paula cried, and so Clarke looked up, taking her pen off the page. The paper was immediately whisked out from under her hand and almost before she knew it Paula was at the printer, folding Clarke’s paper carefully in half, before pulling out a lighter and setting it on fire.   
“Wait!” Clarke choked, but the damage was done. The paper couldn’t be salvaged. Paula dropped it into her metal bin by the door, still burning, and looked at Clarke apologetically. 

“Sorry, dear. But you were a second too late. They’ve claimed your name.” 

\-----

“Clarke Griffin.” Bellamy read aloud. 

“It’s a good name.” The middle aged man said encouragingly. Bellamy could only nod. He didn’t know her. He sighed with relief. That meant that the girl he’d been dating for the past couple of months wasn’t his soul mate, as much as she’d hinted that she thought she was. Of course, she was the type that didn’t know her soul mates’ name, and didn’t really plan to. He could break up with her now with no lingering questions. Which, to be fair, was all he’d ever wanted anyways. 

“Thanks.” He said, a huge grin spreading across his face. He was free once more, freed by the knowledge of his soul mate’s name where before he had been liberated by not knowing. He turned and left, striding through the building and out onto the street. As he left, he couldn’t help but notice a stunned looking woman staring at the bin as he walked past. What on earth had made her pull that expression he had no idea. 

As soon as he was on the street, still clutching his piece of paper, he dialled Roma, his soon to be ex-girlfriend’s number. 

“Hey!”

“Uh, hi. Look, I was just in the Names Office and-“

“You what!” Roma cried into the phone in shock “Okay, okay, was I right? Is it me?” 

“No.” Bellamy carefully ignored the guilt that suddenly flooded him.

“Oh.”

“Yeah.” 

“So is this goodbye or do you want to try and make it work anyways?” She asked, and he could hear that she was trying not to let it get to her. 

“This is goodbye I think, Roma. We can still be friends…?” He offered weakly, knowing in his heart that it was unlikely he’d so much as hear from Roma again, never mind remain her friend. 

“Yeah, I’m sure we can.” Her voice sounded off, and she shut off the call a moment later. 

Next, Bellamy called Octavia, almost afraid to tell her how he’d broken up with Roma – although, she had to have know that he was desperate to do so.

“Hey Bell! What name?” 

“Someone called Clarke Griffin…”

“Wait, Clark? Hang on; I didn’t know you were into guys. You know that you could have –“ 

“O, its –“ Bellamy tried to explain that he hadn’t been hiding bisexuality from her, and that if he was bi he wouldn’t have kept it from her, but she cut him off.” 

“Told me ages ago. I want to be there for you – “ 

“O!” 

“What?” His sister sounded vaguely annoyed. 

“Clarke with an –e. She’s a girl. And if I was bisexual, I wouldn’t keep it from you, I know that you would still love and accept me, yeah?” Bellamy finally got out.

“Oh. Okay. Very true. So do you know her?”

“Nope, never heard of her in my life!” Bellamy couldn’t help but laugh with a little joy as he said the words, drawing a strange look from an 18 year old walking into the Names Office. 

“So, Roma?” Octavia asked softly, as though she’d already guessed. 

“I called. She knows.”

“Ouch. You know, if some guy did that to me you’d beat them to the ground?”

“Sure would… I don’t know O; I just figured it would be better to rip it off like a Band-Aid. She didn’t want to know for sure, just wanted to hint at it. I don’t want that, and you know it.” 

“Fine. But if she beats you up I won’t be defending you.” 

“Fair enough.” Bellamy smiled anyways, knowing that his younger sister was right, and that he was too joyful to care. “How’s work?” He asked, easily moving onto a new topic, one that Octavia threw herself into with gusto. As he listened to his sister, he couldn’t help but notice the blond who’d been staring at the bin as though it held all the answers to his life leave the office. She looked shocked; as though something had happened that was so unexpected she hadn’t even begun to process it. Still, she walked with a straight back, and an inner confidence that Bellamy found himself drawn to. He shook himself focusing back on his sister. The stranger didn’t matter, not at all. His freedom, however, did. 

“Look, O, I’m not going to be home until late tonight, yeah? There’s lasagne in the fridge. If you want to get someone to stay over if that makes you feel better, that’s completely fine.”

“I’m not a baby, Bell.” Octavia laughed. “I can take care of myself for one night!” 

“Whatever you say.” Bellamy deadpanned, then the two said their goodbyes. Finally, Bellamy had only one more call to make. John Murphy’s name flashed up on his contact screen, and he picked up within two rings. 

“What?” 

“Yeah, yeah, it’s lovely to hear from you too, Murphy. Do you want to hit the clubs tonight?”

“And Roma?” At that, Bellamy knew he had him.

“Her name’s not Clarke Griffin, is it?”

“Wait, your soul mate is a guy?”

“Oh come on!” Bellamy laughed, preparing to hear that from every single one of his friends. 

\-----

It took Clarke a long time to come to terms with the fact that if she ever did meet her soul mate she would have no definitive proof that they were telling her the truth. At first she’d been angry, angry that she’d hesitated for that split second before signing, angry that Paula had taken so long to find her name on the system, angry at the system itself – why should only one of a pair know the other’s name? 

Then she’d simply been sad. Sad because she doubted that she’d ever trust enough to be happy, sad that as far as she could tell, her future was known by a total stranger. She was sad too that she couldn’t solve any of her problems, only wait for them to come to her. Whoever her soul mate was, they weren’t exactly seeking her out. All she knew was that they had an alliterative name, which, to her vast relief ruled out Finn Collins. That, she’d been able to admit to herself afterwards. If that slimly little lowlife had been her soul mate… It also ruled out one of her best friends, that she knew her parents had been hoping it would be, Wells Jaha. Honestly, she was simply grateful, even though she knew that he was saddened by the news. She had only ever seen Wells as a friend, and so losing that would have been heartbreaking and scary. However, it did open her up to lots of ribbing from Raven, who spent the next six months laughing that she was Clarke’s soul mate. Of course, neither of them believed it, and on Raven’s 18th birthday her partner had already claimed her name. 

“Don’t worry, Clarke. You’ll always be my soul mate to me!” Raven had laughed, and the two of them had gone home. Raven didn’t take it has hard as Clarke had, despite being hurt far worse than Clarke by Finn. Clarke supposed that that was simply Raven’s nature. She was comfortable enough in herself to allow for the worse, while Clarke built walls miles high. 

College packets arrived eventually, and Clarke was overjoyed to find that she’d been offered a position in Harvard for medicine, which fitted her perfectly as she already lived in the area. Raven got into an engineering course nearby, and Wells went abroad to study international relations, so Clarke got calls every night about the theories behind why which country had done what until her head spun. 

By Clarke’s 21st, she was achieving well in her course, and was about to start prac at her local hospital. 

By the time she was 23, she’d seen some things, but she still loved Medicine with all her heart. Prac at the hospital was gruelling but her body was coping better by then, and her Mum was always giving her tips that saved her on more than one occasion. She was still close with Wells and Raven, both of whom were thriving in their courses. She still hadn’t seen hide nor hair of her soul mate, but she’d managed to have a few short term relationships with people whose names weren’t alliterative, so that when they started to hint that she was their soul mate she could leave with no doubt in mind. Of course, she’d stopped having mini heart attacks whenever people with alliterative names introduced themselves. In fact, she was starting to believe she’d stopped looking for her soul mate, wherever they may be. 

It was one day working through her shift in Emergency when that began to change, although Clarke had no way of knowing it at the time. 

“Girl with some sort of head trauma, she’s here with her boyfriend.” One of the nurses, Monroe, informed Clarke on their way to the emergency room. 

“Thanks, Monroe.” Clarke flashed her a tired smile.

“Hi there. What are your names?” Clarke asked brightly, smiling at the girl and then at her boyfriend. 

“I’m Lincoln, and this is Octavia.” As she checked over Octavia’s vitals, she saw Lincoln relax a little. 

“Nice to meet you both. What happened?” Clarke looked at Octavia for a response but got nothing but a languid gesture to Lincoln. 

“She got in a fight.” Clarke had to admit that she hadn’t expected that answer. 

“Oh, okay. Um, can you tell me what she was hit with?”

“I’m not sure, I think the guy might have been wearing a ring? I wasn’t there, sorry.” Clarke had to admit that she doubted anyone would have fought with the slight woman (Yet now that she thought about it, Clarke could she that the girl had a strong build none the less) with her boyfriend standing right there – that boy had some serious muscle. 

“What happened to the other guy, huh?” Clarke smiled at Octavia and she smiled back, if somewhat slowly. “Okay, Octavia, what year is it?” 

“2015.” 

“And what day is it?”

“Saturday.” 

“And how many fingers am I holding up?” Clarke asked, extending two.

“Two.” 

“It would appear that she has had some minor form of concussion but doesn’t seem to be suffering any side effects other than feeling a little woozy.” Lincoln perked up at this news. “However, I’d really like to keep her overnight just to be sure – sometimes the side effects from these sorts of injuries take a few hours to develop, and I don’t want to take any risks. However, this basically just a precaution. You can stay overnight with her if you’d like, but I can’t promise it’ll be overly comfortable!” Clarke smiled at him encouragingly, and was rewarded with a little smile in return. He nodded once, and Clarke knew that he would stay. 

“Did you get that, Octavia?” She turned to the patient, smiling comfortingly.

“Yeah, you won’t let me go home.” Octavia didn’t sound overly impressed. 

“Not tonight, but probably tomorrow. If it makes you feel better, I can come and check on you tomorrow?” Clarke offered, praying that this girl wasn’t going to go on some rampage about how much she hated hospitals. That had been last night’s major issue – a professional athlete who was a solid foot and a half taller than her essentially throwing a tantrum about how much he didn’t want to stay overnight. 

“Fine.” Thank goodness. 

“Glad to hear it. I’m just going to clean up this cut now, okay? This will probably sting a little, but it’ll be gone by the time you count to ten.” Clarke approached with an antiseptic swab to the nasty looking cut. However, after she’d cleared most of the blood, it was clear that it wouldn’t even need stiches. 

“It was lovely to meet you, Octavia, and you too Lincoln.” Clarke smiled at them and caught up to Monroe just as she was heading off to reception. 

“Can you let them know that we need a bed for Octavia Blake for observation? Oh, and if you can manage it a chair or a blanket or something for her boyfriend please?” 

“Sure thing, Clarke!” The nurse smiled easily and headed off while Clarke went to finish her rounds. 

\-----

“She what?” Bellamy yelled into the phone. 

“She was in a fight. She’s being kept at the hospital for observation, but it’s just a precaution.” Lincoln’s answer was slightly garbled. 

“Okay, I’m coming.” Bellamy muttered, and then grabbed a pillow and a book and ran out of his apartment. His car had enough gas to get him to the hospital, so he hit the road, weaving in and out of traffic to get there as fast as he could. 

Not much had changed in Bellamy’s life. He was still close with Murphy and Miller, and still had Octavia with all of her dorky high school friends over every other night. However, Octavia did have her own apartment in the city, which even he had to admit was a major change. Still, she was always visiting (With said dorky high school friends in tow) and leaving a mess, so that was still the same. Clarke Griffin’s name still allowed him more freedom than he’d ever had before – pretty girls were willing to hope that the person who’d claimed their names years ago might just be him. 

Finally, he arrived at the hospital, and had a very short conversation with a receptionist to find out where Octavia was and then practically ran to her room. 

“O?” He huffed as he stuck his head in to room 309. 

“In here.” Lincoln called softly. 

“Hey Bell.” Octavia smiled dreamily before dropping back to a light sleep.

“What the hell happened? How could you let this happen?” Bellamy spat at Lincoln, fear turning to anger as he saw his sister safe and sound.

“She got in a fight! I turned away for a few minutes – just to get her a drink – and I turn around and she’d thrown herself and some random guy!” 

“You’re supposed to be her soul mate, but you can’t even keep her out of a brawl!” Bellamy yelled. 

“She’s an adult! I’m not her babysitter.” Lincoln’s response was far more measured. 

Bellamy became aware of the sound of purposeful footfalls as he yelled, “I never said you were! I just said that –“ 

“That’s enough.” Bellamy swung around to see a short blond woman with her arms folded angrily across her chest, eyes blazing. “Who are you?”

“Bellamy Blake.” He started to calm down, his racing heart slowing. “I’m Octavia’s brother.” 

The doctor frowned. He just assumed she was annoyed that it meant that she couldn’t throw him out. “In that case, you want her to get better, yes? So you need to stay calm and avoid yelling. You’re waking up the other patients, and we’re understaffed tonight as it is.” 

“Yeah, weren’t you in Emergency?” Lincoln asked.

“Tell me about it.” The woman smiled wanly. “Look, please, just don’t make too much noise.” Looking into her eyes was like staring into an icy ocean. They somehow managed to plead with Bellamy while still letting him know that to fight would be pointless. 

“Fine.” He huffed, forcing himself to look away. She had eyes that sucked him in – and he really didn’t need that at that particular moment. 

“Thanks.” She shook herself and turned to leave. 

“Wait.” Bellamy called, surprising himself. She turned to face him once more, her face quizzical. “What’s your name?” 

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Octavia.” She said softly, and left. Bellamy couldn’t help the frustration that flooded through him. He hadn’t meant to be creepy – he just… Well, he wanted to know. 

He and Lincoln spent the rest of the night curled up on the plastic chairs and utterly failed to sleep at all. 

\-----

Clarke walked away from Octavia’s room with her head spinning slightly. The man she’d just met had been gorgeous – thick dark curls and golden skin that looked as though he’d been blessed by the gods themselves, and warm brown eyes that made her feel strangely safe, despite the fact that he’d just been yelling at his sister’s soul mate. 

Not to mention, he had an alliterative name.


	2. Chapter 2

In the morning, one of the nurses forced Bellamy and Lincoln to “At least go and get some breakfast, even if you refuse to go home and have a shower, despite the public service that would be.” 

He scarfed down a slightly stale croissant, while Lincoln looked at it like it had insulted him as he ate his protein something-something. “Did it offend you?” 

“No, it’s just those things have the same amount of calories as 15 pieces of white bread.” Bellamy gave his breakfast an apprising glance at this news. 

“Wonderful.” He laughed a little at that, and Lincoln did too, and Bellamy knew that Lincoln wasn’t mad at him. He had to admit he was grateful for that – He knew he shouldn’t have gotten so mad, and he really did like the guy; he just worried about his sister. 

The two men hurried back to Octavia, only to find that the Doctor had already been past and allowed her to go – provided that she was watched closely for the next couple of days. Bellamy couldn’t believe it when he felt a sensation in his gut that could only be described as disappointment that he’d missed the medic.

“Let’s get you home, O.” Lincoln smiled, and Bellamy offered them a lift. This of course led to him being roped into watching something with them. Octavia had enthusiastically told him that he could pick – Of course, much to no one’s surprise he picked out Mary Beard’s Life and Death in Ancient Rome. Honestly, he’d at least hoped for some sort of surprised reaction from Lincoln, but clearly he’d chosen their nightly viewing one too many times for even that. 

With Octavia lying across the couch with her head on a cushion in Lincoln’s lap, all while he was hogging the popcorn in front of them, Bellamy felt a deep sense of home. His apartment was feeling more like a house and less like a home every day now the Octavia wasn’t there. It only really had people in it when she brought her friends around, and he found that having a string of strangers going through was less fun than they’d ever been before and just lead to more guilt, and a loneliness that made his heart ache in moments like this one, when he felt so utterly accepted. 

He didn’t dare put it into words just yet, but deep in the back of his mind, the name Clarke Griffin was starting to feel like something worth finding a person to match it. He was, perhaps, still too scared for a commitment like that… so he still went out with Murphy, still had those one night stands that brought him so little happiness. However, he had to admit he was considering trying a longer-term relationship – in all honesty, just to see if he could manage the implications of that. 

“Bellamy?” Lincoln’s whisper pulled him out of his reverie. “You awake?”

“Yeah?”

“She’s asleep, can you help me move her so that we don’t jostle her head?”

“Sure thing.” Bellamy stood up, muscles stiff from attempting to sleep in a chair, and helped Lincoln carefully lay her in her bed. 

“Do you wanna stay over?” Lincoln asked, with a small smile.

“That’d be great, thanks.” 

That, of course, lead to Bellamy’s second night in a row sleeping on a chair – still, a squashy couch in his sister’s apartment beat the hard plastic hospital chair by a mile. That was until morning came and the sun beat in, mercilessly forcing him from his slumber. Groaning, and stiffer than before, he started the process of standing up. 

That arduous task completed, he started to make breakfast. He knew that Octavia loved homemade waffles more than any other breakfast food. Hence, it was really the only choice he would consider after her first night home from the hospital. Trying to be as silent as possible, he started rooting through their kitchen. Nonetheless, he was only half way through assembling the necessary ingredients when Octavia appeared in the doorway. 

“Morning, Bell.”

“Hey, O. How are you feeling?”

“Fine.” That was the extent of their conversation until Bellamy provided coffee, and then she slowly returned to her daytime self. 

“Are you making waffles?”

Bellamy chuckled quietly. He was honestly surprised that it’d taken her that long to figure it out. Usually, she knew the moment he pulled out the flour before 12pm. 

“Sure am.” Again, they lapsed into comfortable silence until the batter was done. 

“Bell.” Octavia’s voice had suddenly taken on a determined tone, as though she’d almost come to a conclusion, but still needed one final piece of information to prove her theory. 

“O.” He tried to mimic her tone, but couldn’t quite get the subtleties of it, and just caused her to roll her eyes. 

“That Doctor… You thought she was cute, didn’t you?” He blinked at the batter for a second. 

“Yeah…” He sounded suspicious even to his own ears. 

“You should get together sometime.”

“I don’t think so – she’s met me once because she had to stop me from yelling.” 

Octavia nodded once, as though her conclusion had been reached. “But if you were to met up with her…?”

“She’s cute.” At those words, it was as though Octavia had gone into some sort of  
‘Planning attack’ mode. She furrowed her brow and pursed her lips, cocking her head to the side just slightly. “What are you planning?”

“Nothing.” 

Now that he doubted. 

\-------

A few weeks later, Clarke got a call from an unknown number. She and Raven had been studying together - the fact that they were studying completely different things had never really bothered them - when the phone had started ringing. 

“Who is it?”

“Don’t know… It doesn’t say?” Clark looked to her friend for advice. 

“Take it. Live on the wild side, girl.” Clarke rolled her eyes but picked up the phone, curious. 

“Hello, this is Clarke?”

“Hi! Are you Clarke as in Clarke Griffin?” Although she swore she’d heard that voice before, she couldn’t quite place it. 

“Yes. Who is this?”

“Octavia Blake. You patched me up after I got in a fight a couple of weeks ago?”

“Oh yeah, I remember!” Raven was frantically signalling to her, clearly trying to figure out who it was. Clarke shook her head with a smile, and focused back on her conversation. 

“Great! It’s just… I think… Uh, can we meet up?”

“Oh, um, okay? Nearby the hospital for Lunch?” 

“Done.” Just like that, Clarke had agreed to meet up with a total stranger for lunch for no reason that she was actively aware of. Still, she knew the place and that it was a favourite of all the hospital staff. If she had just agreed to meet up with a serial killer, she’d at least do it in front of a bunch of her friends, who’d hopefully save her from a modern day Jack the Ripper.  
“Who was that?” Raven cried as soon as the call ended. 

“Octavia – you remember, the one in the fight?”

“With the hot brother?” Clarke immediately regretted telling Raven that particular detail. 

“Yeah, that’s the one. We’re meeting up, like now.” 

“Off you go then! You’ll be late!” Raven called after Clarke as she hurried off to get changed into something more socially acceptable. Rifling through her clothes, Clarke wondered about Octavia’s brother. Bellamy Blake, who’s name and the one good look she’d gotten of him had been going around her head like a catchy song for weeks. BB. She hadn’t really wondered at length about her soul mate for a long time. However, she knew that fate was meant to bring them together – the names were just a check, provided by some sort of weird formula accompanied by blood tests provided at birth (Needless to say, Clarke wasn’t overly aware of the exact details, only what she’d heard on the grape vine). She couldn’t help but think… that maybe… if anything was fate – this had potential. 

Looking more human, she left her apartment and her study notes behind; she had something else that now demanded her attention. When she arrived at the café, she saw a lone girl with thick dark hair, and knew that that must be Octavia. Still, she looked very different when she wasn’t bleeding and in a hospital gown. 

“Hey, Octavia?”

“Clarke! Thank you so much for coming!” Octavia grinned, and Clarke couldn’t help but smile back. 

“No problem… How did you get my number though?”

“Ahhh, a little searching. Lincoln made me stay sitting down for ages and I didn’t have a lot to do.”

“Oh, that sucks. You’re looking better now, though.” 

“Thanks! But that’s not actually why I invited you here.” Clarke noticed that the other girl seemed to be feeling really uncomfortable. 

“Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, it’s all fine. It’s just, well, this is sort of hard to tell you.” That made Clarke frown a little, worried that something really was horribly wrong. 

“Okay, I think… Actually, do you know your soul mate’s name?”

Clarke blinked in shock at the personal question, especially only minutes after meeting. In a split second, Clarke could see her options. On the one hand she could say that she did know, and that she had no interest in what Octavia was leading into. On the other, she could tell this girl the truth, on the hope that she was about to find out something life changing. Or, she supposed, she could tell her to rack off and that she never wanted to talk to her again. She was, however, surprised by how much she didn’t want to never talk to this girl again, as though being friends with her was a knee-jerk reaction that she was unwilling to prevent. That left the first two options. For a moment, all her old hurt from Finn’s betrayal, from hearing people lie as they hinted that she might be their soul mate welled up in her, as though it had all been sitting under the surface waiting for a scratch to allow it through. She was so tempted to lie and stay safe and alone, un-hurt. Yet, something in her that she’d almost forgotten was there, the part of her that had been will to hope about Finn in the first place, and Lexa, and those who’d followed, resurfaced. 

“I only know that they have an alliterative name.” That earned her a soft smile. Clearly Octavia knew how hard that must have been. Still, Clarke felt strangely raw, as though she’d taken off a Band-Aid too early. 

“Thank you. Look…” For a moment, Clarke thought that Octavia was going to take a plunge of some sort. But then, Octavia sighed, and Clarke sensed that something a changed. “Can I ask a favour?”

“Yeah?”

“My brother… well, I think he’s lonely, and I know he think’s you’re super cute, and you’re… not his soul mate, but I think you’d be cute together, so could I introduce you? Please?”

Again, Clarke saw the effect of her options straight away, spread out like snapshots of a movie in front of her. In one, she said no to Octavia’s request. And she went home to Raven, and they laughed about it and Clarke lost nothing except for a ‘maybe’, and in six months time she would have forgotten. But she also knew that she would still be alone. In the other, she said yes. She had a great time with Bellamy Blake for a few months, and they made it work despite the fact that they were not each other’s soul mates. And then Bellamy found his soul mate, and left Clarke in the lurch, alone and hurt. But she also saw that she would heal. Somehow, Clarke knew that if she didn’t say yes to this, she may never say yes to a romantic relationship again. Of course, she knew that she would be okay with herself. 

But. 

She wanted to try, just to try if she could survive a longer-term relationship with someone with the same first letters for their first and last name. She just needed to know if she could. 

“Yes. Okay, yes.”

“Yay! Thank you! That’s so exciting!” Octavia’s whole face lit up like a Christmas tree, and Clarke felt a smile spread across her face. 

“Hey, just one more thing, though Clarke.” 

‘Oh brother, what now?’ Clarke wondered silently, but said out loud with a small laugh:

“Yeah?” 

“I know, I’m not making this easy… but one of my friend’s soul mate’s name is Clarke Griffin… but his name isn’t alliterative. I don’t want to give him false hope and make a massive mess out of everything…” 

“So you want to give me a fake name?” Now Clarke was laughing outright. Now she was going to have a relationship with the aim to make it more long term, but she was going to do it all with a fake name. 

“Fine. Just don’t call me Gertrude or something.” Octavia sagged with relief. 

“Thank you! This is going to be good for him, and hopefully it’ll be good for you too.” 

“Hopefully. Look, I’m sorry, exams are coming up and I’ll have to head home soon.” Clarke said with a small smile, feeling as though all the fatigue in the world had come crashing in on her. Octavia nodded once. 

“I was thinking of introducing you at a party in a few weeks? Feel free to bring a friend, if you’d like.” 

“Yeah, sounds like a plan. You already have my number, so just text me the details.” Clarke found herself standing in across from Octavia, and the mood was all wrong. She couldn’t leave like this. 

“Look, Octavia, thank you for this. I needed this… I just need some time to adjust to the idea.” 

“Call me O – and yeah, I completely understand.” They shared a smile, and when Octavia went in for a hug, Clarke found herself (To her honest surprise) reciprocating gladly. 

“See you around, O.” 

\--------

“Bell, you are going to come to this party.” 

“No, no I’m not.” 

“Please!” Octavia pulled out her final trick of this argument – a soft, sad, wounded look that Bellamy knew she tried to use in small doses so that it would keep its potency. He melted. 

“Okay, okay, I’ll be there!”

“The Doctor you thought was so cute is going to be there too, by the way.” 

“How…? Actually, never mind. I’m not sure I’m really to sit down to a half hour story about how you found her. But thank you… I think?” Bellamy knew that his stomach should not be doing those little weird flipping things over a complete stranger, forget a stranger that yelled at him. And yet, flipping it was. 

“Sure thing.” 

“You’re pretty good, O.” Bellamy smiled.

“Now, that is the truest truth you’ve ever spoken.” 

“Don’t get too excited!” Bellamy laughed. Still, he felt something rise up inside him, a fear, he supposed, of meeting this girl and finding that she was everything he was looking for. He was afraid that she would be wonderful and lovely and she’d get her hopes up even though her name wasn’t Clarke Griffin. It couldn’t be – if it was, Octavia would have told him straight away. He, Bellamy Blake, the most notorious one-night-stander that he knew, was scared of hurting a strange, pretty girl’s feelings. He supposed it was a good change, but he didn’t appreciate the vaguely ill feeling settling in his stomach. “But I’ll be there.” 

Of course, in the weeks between agreeing to go to the party and actually going to said party, Bellamy began to have more than just a few doubts. 

“I don’t even know this girl, O.” It was the morning of the party, and this was his final chance to convince Octavia to let him back out peacefully, and he felt strangely conflicted about it. Of course, he didn’t really want to go… but he knew for sure that he didn’t want to not go either. It was weird. 

“You will tonight!” Octavia chirped Bellamy could hear her smile through the phone. “See you then.” And then she hung up, cutting off any chances for him to question his choices. 

Brilliant, just the confidence boost that he’d needed… (Not). And yet, he really didn’t want Octavia bugging him about how he must have no social life because he didn’t go to this one party (Never mind that he only went out when he wanted to – it wasn’t his fault that partying didn’t really do it for him the same way) But he didn’t want to look and feel like a friendless loser who had to go to his sister’s parties to have any friends. In the end, after hours of those facts see-sawing around his mind, he decided that he would go. Of course, that didn’t solve his problems, but it certainly made ignoring them a whole load easier. 

And that was how he found himself standing outside the bar that Octavia had chosen with his resolve shaking as hard as his hands. All he knew was that he could… if he chose… still leave. Why this stupid party was freaking him out so much he had not the slightest clue. 

He had the strangest feeling rising up in him – like he was meant to be at this party, like something on the other side of the door had picked up a magnetic charge that was dragging him in, as though he’d been looking for north his whole life and now it was just through that stupid door. Almost without his noticing it, and certainly without his intention, his fingers lifted to brush gently against its dark wood. He almost expected them to tingle, but all they did was keep on shaking slightly. 

He knew then that if he didn’t push on that door in that instant, the strange pull would fade and he’d go home, and he’d never find out what that draw was. So he pushed. 

The door sprung open, and the first thing he saw was a halo of blond hair.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Life and Death in Ancient Rome is one of my favourite documentaries - I couldn't resist! Anyways, I hope you enjoyed!!


	3. Chapter 3

If Clarke had been worried before, she was terrified by the time the big day actually arrived. 

She’d spent the afternoon at the hospital, which should have distracted her… but she’d never seen an emergency room so empty, and it had driven her slightly insane. In fact, she’d felt so frantic that she’d pulled into the break room and called Raven (Who’d been in the middle of class but picked up anyways)

“I can’t go to this party. Raven! I can’t!”

“Yes you can. And you will. If I’m stuck with Wick for my group project then I must live vicariously through you and thus you must go.”

“Um, ouch.” Clarke assumed that to be Wick. 

“Shut up. Anyways, I’ve got to go now my lovely. We’ll do outfits or something after class.” That at least got a smile out of Clarke, who immediately started to feel better. 

“Ok, it’s a date.” 

That, she realised later, meant that she absolutely had to go. She’d agreed, after all. She should go! And yet… something about the whole idea was starting to scare her. Maybe it was how badly one part of her really did want to go to Octavia’s stupid party, almost as though something bigger was pulling her there. Or, maybe it was that she was about to be introduced, with a fake name no less, to a complete stranger in the hope that they would date and essentially kill time until one of them found a soul mate. 

Eventually, the afternoon finished lazily passing by, each second languidly following the previous as though they were determined to make each minute feel like an hour, and each hour feel like a life time. Clarke clocked off at the hospital and headed home, knowing that Raven would no doubt be waiting there with a plan of attack. It was then, of course, by the time she actually wanted the minutes until she arrived home to crawl past, that they seemed to suddenly hitch up the pace to a gallop. If the minutes at the hospital had felt like hours, then the minutes on the train home felt like seconds. Time was trying to make up for its previous behaviour, and it couldn’t have picked a more annoying moment to do so. 

That meant that she was home almost as soon as she left the hospital. And inside her tiny apartment was Raven, already having laid out the dresses that she thought to be best. 

“What do you think about this one, Clarke?” 

“Um, yeah, sure.” Although Clarke had meant it to simply sound apathetic, the words came out more nervous that she had hoped. 

“That bad, huh?” 

“Yeah. Still, I’ve said that I’ll go, right? So I should go.” Clarke found that even as she tried to talk herself into going, she looked to Raven for an excuse not to.

“That’s the spirit!” Not quite what she’d been looking for, excuse-wise. 

An hour and four dresses later (It would appear that Clarke’s nerves were taking themselves out as fussiness) Clarke was made up to kill, in a light blue dress that swirled around her thighs and dipped at the neck, and contours to make anyone jealous. Her hair was out too, allowed to sit around her shoulders in gentle waves.

“Okay, you’ve definitely got this, girl!” Raven laughed. “You look amazing.” 

“Why thank you!” Clarke laughed nervously at Raven’s excitement on her behalf – she had no doubt that Raven was faking at least some for her benefit. 

“You know, don’t you, that if he doesn’t talk to you it’s ‘cause you look too good for him and he knows it, yes? And that you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to and not to drink a drink you’ve ever taken your eyes off?” 

“I know.” Clarke smiled at her best friend. “Thank you. You’re the best, you do know that right? And that I’m sure you’ll give Wick the academic flogging he deserves? 

“Damn straight. I am the best.” The two laughed at that, although Clarke knew that it was, in a lot of ways, true. “You’d better be off, you’ll be late. Plus, this is getting sort of touchy-feely and I’m not wearing water-proof mascara.” 

“Okay, okay! I’m going!” 

For once that day, time co-operated. The minutes floated by at there usual speed so that by the time she arrived Clarke was almost emotionally ready for the choice she was making. Then, of course, she was at the door and all that readiness flew out the window. Still, she steadied herself with a deep breath and walked in. 

“Hey!” The excited voice got her attention immediately. Octavia was over in the corner, with a fairly large group of friends. 

“Hey, O! Who are all these people?” Clarke found that as the introductions went round she relaxed once more, trusting in her own ability to make small talk. The only names she really remembered were Jasper’s and Miller’s (and Lincoln’s, but she’d known who he was before) and she was pretty sure that the skinny kid in the corner next to Jasper was called Monty, but she wasn’t completely sure. “Okay, so that’s everyone. Everyone, this is Clarke.” 

A few soft calls of ‘Hey!’ floated back, and a few raised eyebrows. Clarke just assumed that they were worried about their friend, the one who’s soul mate she couldn’t be. Somehow, Clarke knew that everything was going to be different after tonight, almost as though Octavia actually giving her a new name meant that this was all real. “Clarke... Smith.” 

Clarke had to fight the urge to roll her eyes. Smith? Really, she’d expected something a little more exotic, although why she wasn’t completely sure. 

“Yeah, that’s me. Clarke Smith.” Clarke tried out the name. Deciding that she liked it, she grinned at Octavia who visibly relaxed. 

A few minutes later, there was so much good-natured banter going around the room her head span. She’d kind of hoped Octavia might have warned her that she was walking in on the most sarcastic group in the whole country! Still, Clarke was pleased to find that she could hold her own. Eventually, Jasper got bored with throwing jabs at Octavia, and threw one at Lincoln, who’d been silent. He, to Clarke’s honest surprise slung a verbal spar twice as sharp straight back without the slightest hesitation. In her surprise, she threw her head back to laugh, and saw the alien refractions of the dim lights as they flashed off of her hair. 

The next thing she knew, Octavia was crying out “Bellamy!” and running towards him and Clarke was spinning in her chair to see him, and having her heart stopped a little by his presence. Why he had that effect on her she had no idea – no one had ever, ever had one like it on her. 

No one. 

Still, some small part of her whispered that she liked it, liked not knowing why this strange man made her heart flutter and her hands start to shake a little. And part of her knew that that small, strange part of her was dead right. She liked it, and she wanted so, so badly to like him too. 

“Hi, guys.” He was smiling warmly at his friends, but Clarke noticed that his cheeks were a little flushed, which only made his freckles stand out more… she thought it was cute. Still, what had made him blush she had no idea. She watched him with interest as he talked briefly to his sister. Something about him made her feel like there was nothing else in the room at all, as though they were in a play and the spot light was on him, leaving the rest of the world in obscurity. Suddenly she realised that she was staring and that he’d seen her doing it. 

“Hi, Bellamy, right?” She smiled at him, hoping her own pale cheeks weren’t as on fire as they felt. 

“Yeah. And you’re…?” For the second time, she found being asked her name by him an intimidating thing, like she was risking being hurt once more. Still, she figured that by that stage, it was too late to back out. 

“Clarke.” She could have sworn he jumped a little when she said it. 

“Yeah, Bell, this is Dr Smith. The one who looked after me after… Um, yeah she’s the one!” Octavia smiled awkwardly, and immediately, Clarke saw Bellamy relax. 

“Hi Clarke.” He grinned. “You have a very unusual name.” 

“I think my parents had to make up for the boring-ness of my last name.” Clarke smiled, throwing Octavia a look. “You, know Smith is kinda renowned for being a normal name so…” 

“I suppose.” Bellamy’s easy grin made Clarke feel all gooey inside, and then before she knew it he was off talking to one of his other friends. 

“Really, O? Smith?” Clarke hissed into her friend’s ear as they went to get drinks.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t give myself time to think, and I’d already called you by your real first name and ugh.” Octavia laughed. “Still, they all bought it so…” 

“True. Hey, your brother doesn’t know about this plan of yours, does he?” 

“Nope.” Clarke laughed as she felt some of the pressure disappearing. Now, at least, if something went wrong it wouldn’t be such a direct insult. 

After that, the rest of the party passed relatively uneventfully. Clarke found Octavia’s friends quite entertaining, and they seemed to like her well enough. Even Bellamy, who’d seemed to avoid her a little at the start of the party, started talking to her, if from the relative safety of across the table. 

All in all, everything was going wonderfully… Until Octavia clearly decided that Clarke and Bellamy weren’t getting together on their own - no, they’d need some prompting. 

They were going to play truth or dare.

\-------

“Hey, Bell, what do you think of a nice, friendly round of –“ 

“No.” Bellamy cut off his sister. He had few doubts about where this was going, and quite frankly, despite the fact that yes, they were all in college still, he did not want to play whatever game she was thinking of. 

And the party had been going so nicely. If, of course, Bellamy pretended that he wasn’t completely distracted by Clarke. He knew that Octavia had found he specifically so that he could ask her out, and he new it would be good for him (He’d clearly never been one of those weird ‘save yourself for your soul mate’ types) but she intimidated him, actually. She was gorgeous, and clearly smart and that draw he’d felt outside had not faded at all. The closest he’d been able to allow himself to get to her 

“Yes. You’re playing truth or dare with us.” Octavia was already siting him down across from Clarke, who offered him a small smile. 

He couldn’t help but smile back, feeling the blood rush to his cheeks. Of course, Octavia took that as the agreement as she’d been looking for, and started the game. “Okay, Jasper. Truth or Dare?”

Bellamy watched as Jasper weighed up his options. Clearly he knew, much like Bellamy, that neither was going to let him get away safely. 

“Truth.” 

“Okay, did you go to the clothes shop with the sales assistant you think is so cute, what’s her name, Maya, last weekend when you told me it took you two hours to buy milk and that’s why I had to wait so long to have breakfast?” 

They all burst out laughing at that. 

“Yes…” Jasper was redder than a beet, and it was brilliant. “Okay! Um, Lincoln…” And thus the game continued. Bellamy watched with interest as Clarke was asked for the first time by Monty, and thanked his lucky stars that no one had given Octavia the power to make him make a move for Clarke. 

Bellamy had always figured that life was about the small mercies. 

He did notice, though, that she chose dare without a hint of fear and ordered her ‘Chocolate heaven’ Cocktail (Something Monty made up) without a hint of fear, watched the bartender make it up as she went along, drank it, and as the icing on the cake came back over and proclaimed it to be the most disgusting thing she’d ever tasted. He couldn’t help but find it impressive. 

And then, of course, someone gave Octavia the power of truth or dare. Bellamy knew, without a doubt, that this time she would not be kind. There would be no escape. 

“Bellamy. Truth or dare?” Her voice sounded like the ominous tolling of his oncoming embarrassment. He quickly assessed the risks of both – he could pick truth, and be forced to admit that he thought Clarke was cute, or he could choose dare, and… he wasn’t sure what she had planned for that one. 

“Dare.” He tried to give him his best ‘don’t you even think about it look’ but he could see that she’d already moved past the planning stage. 

“Okay, ask Clarke out on a date and, if she says yes, go on a date with her.” Octavia had the wickedest grin he’d ever seen, and he knew that she’d been leading them to this moment all night. That then left Bellamy in a really awkward spot. He’d just been given the excuse that he so clearly needed to actually ask her out, but he ran the serious risk of her thinking he’d only done so because his sister had asked him to. Not to mention, she was the first person he’d ever met with the same first name as his soul mate – something that had been shifting uneasily in the back of his mind, adding to his nerves, since they’d been introduced. He decided then, as any panicking person probably would, to just get it out of the way. 

“Well, Clarke, will you go on adatewithme?” The last part of his sentence came out in a huff of air, all jumbled up. Still, he supposed she knew what he’d asked. (Jasper waggling his eyebrows probably also gave her some sense of the proceedings) Bellamy, for the first time in a long time, almost couldn’t bear to hear the answer. 

“Oh, well…” She trailed off, and he could see she was trying to force down her laughter. “I’d like that, actually.” She said, and then her cheeks brightened immensely. Bellamy thought it was cute. 

Then Octavia went “Aww!” As loudly as she could, and the moment was lost. 

“Okay… Jasper. Truth or Dare?” At least Bellamy could get him back for that eyebrow wiggle, if not Octavia. After that little event, the game passed relatively normally, with quite a few people getting rather red-faced by the end. Clarke was one of them, but Bellamy had thought she’d been rather flushed the whole time, so figured she must be pretty sober. 

Clearly, though, she must have been drunker than he’d thought because at the end of the night she’d pulled out her phone and said with a small smile:

“So, when’s that date going to be?” 

\-------

“The weekend work for you? I’m working all week.” Bellamy had smiled back, and Clarke couldn’t help but thank her lucky stars he was actually at least a little into her. 

“Yeah, that works fine. Send me a text with the details?” She offered, and held out her phone for him to put in his number. 

“Sure.” As they swapped phones, she felt their fingers brush, just a little. It was like putting her hands in front of a fire. They both jumped a little, and then pretended nothing had happened. 

Yet, she couldn’t wait to find an excuse to brush hands again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the shorter update! We've been moving this week so it's been kinda intense - but next week should be longer!


	4. Chapter 4

“You are actually taking her on a date, right?” Octavia asked him over the phone the next day. “Because, if you’re not…” 

“Don’t worry, I have no desire to incur your wrath, O. We’re going out this weekend.” 

“Good.” Octavia nodded decisively. Bellamy laughed, and ended the conversation with the customary ‘Love you”. Then of course, now that he didn’t have to talk to Octavia about how he was taking Clarke out on a date, he had no choice but to live his life like he hadn’t agreed to take a ‘Clarke’ out on a date, even if she wasn’t Clarke Griffin. 

It had always been something he’d been careful to avoid. 

He’d gone to classes, marked some truly horrendous essays (The joys of being a History TA – so many essays, most okay, but some serious crap.) All the while, the memory of the flicker of energy he’d felt charge his nerves as he touched Clarke seemed to sit in his skin like his fingers were itching to brush hers again. Her name was thumping around his head like a deep bass beat, like his very pulse, on repeat ‘Clarke, Clarke, Clarke…” 

Thus the days passed. 

It got to the point when even Murphy asked him if he was coping okay. (Bellamy always knew he really was coping badly when Murphy was worried enough to ask.) He’d just smiled and claimed that he was a little nervous for his date – even though both of them knew that ‘little’ was definitely coming in in the top ten of gross understatements of the century. 

Once, he almost called Clarke up to cancel. It was after a nightmare, of all things. 

In it, he was holding Clarke’s hand. It felt so right in his, so that he couldn’t bear to let it go. 

But she was shaking her head at him, and even though she didn’t say a word, he knew she’d met someone infinitely better than him. Someone whose piece of paper had had the name ‘Clarke Smith’ on it, someone who suited her. And she was leaving him. 

He’d stayed asleep just long enough to feel her hand slip out of his, and woke in a cold sweat. Within seconds, his hand was on his phone and his finger was hovering over her number… But he’d stopped. He wasn’t quite sure why, but in the morning he felt an unbidden sensation of gratitude to his earlier self creeping over him. He was actually glad that he hadn’t cancelled, that he was going to see her again. Because that was the essence of it. During the day, when he was talking to his friends, when he was talking to Octavia, he made himself believe that he was just tired of endless one-night-stands, that he wanted to see if he could make a long term relationship work, even if her name was Clarke. And he so wanted those reasons to be true. He so badly wished that those slightly disconnected reasons were why he was so glad that they were meeting. But deep down, he knew that it was simpler than that. He wanted to see her again. 

Eventually, as he knew in every cell of his body, the day came. He got to the café too early (It was a little ‘shabby chic’ place he knew did good coffee) and got them a table, and set himself up to wait patiently for 11 to come around. To his surprise, however, she walked in ten minutes early, and as soon as she saw him, he saw her lips lift in a small smile. 

He clambered to his feet, feeling deeply un-coordinated (Despite his usual athleticism) and more than a little awkward. Still, he forced an uncomfortable smile, which was returned by one of hers. 

“So… How have you been?”

She laughed a little, which made him feel more at ease. “Since Friday? I’ve been good, thanks.” She lifted her eyebrow, and spoke with a heavy dose of sarcasm. Immediately, Bellamy felt like he could actually do this. “You?”

“Eh. Tuesday was a real mood turner.” Bellamy smiled, and she laughed back. Yep. He could definitely do this. 

After that, the two of them fell into friendly banter, and began to learn about each other’s lives. Bellamy told Clarke about his degree, and his job as a TA, and she told him about her life as a med student, which he had to admit he found fascinating. (Luckily, she didn’t seem to think her was too weird, in fact, more than anything, she seemed flattered, for which he was highly grateful.) He noticed that her eyes lit up when she told her stories, and felt his heart lift. Honestly, he made a silent promise to himself that morning to try and get her eyes to light up like that as often as possible. 

Bellamy couldn’t remember the last time a date had gone as well as this, and he was starting to honestly wish that he’d found the nerve to ask her on it off his own back, rather than being forced to by his sister in a game of truth or dare. Still, it was too late by then. 

As the sun slowly rose higher and higher over their little city, he started to notice how the sun lit up her hair, making it look like it shone with an inner light, and made her eyes seem to glow with warmth, despite their icy blue. He noticed how her lips seemed redder than could be possible, and how they moved to form every word, and for the first time in a long time he wondered if that was like every new relationship felt like. 

It came as a surprise to the both of them when the waiter came over to ask if they’d like some lunch too, and Bellamy watched Clarke’s cheeks pink prettily. 

“I… um…” She looked at him, surprisingly helplessly. 

“I’d better be off – I’ve still got a few essays that need to be marked before Monday.” He smiled, assuming that she’d been looking for him to let her go painlessly. 

“Yeah, sure. Me too, probably... Can we have the bill instead, please?” Her expression was strange, and he couldn’t read it. The waiter returned with their bill within seconds, and Bellamy insisted on getting it, knowing that it was the right thing to do, knowing that it might increase his chances of a second date. 

He really wanted a second date. 

“So, should I call you?” He asked, feeling blood rush to his own cheeks. 

She looked at him appraisingly for a moment, and Bellamy started to brace for the rejection that seemed impending, trying desperately to keep his stomach in his torso and not somewhere down near his shoes. (He failed.) 

“Yeah, you should.” She’d grinned then, and he’d felt relief surge through him like an intense adrenaline rush. 

“Okay then, I will.” He grinned, and she smiled back, and he didn’t know whether to kiss her or not, and he hesitated a moment too long and her arms were suddenly around his neck in a fierce hug. For a moment, he wasn’t quite sure what to do – Her hugging him felt so easy, so undeniably right that it was as though his body froze in shock. Then, nerve-by-nerve, his arms began to work again, and he hugged her back. She was surprisingly warm, and soft, and real. She was also a lot shorter than he’d realised. His eyes shut for just a moment, and then she was pulling away. She looked flustered, as though she was surprised by her own forwardness. She nodded to him quickly, and turned and walked away as though none of was really bothering her after all. Bellamy, however, found himself unable to do anything but watch her go in a strange sort of awe. 

\------

Clarke had to admit that that had been one of the best dates ever. (Actually, it was so easily the best date it scared her a little (A lot)). She’d tried to play it cool when she’d been recounting it to over the phone Raven that afternoon – no studying was done that day – but she’d been practically able to hear Raven’s raised eyebrow. They both knew that she was in way to deep way to quick. 

Raven had tried to raise it as a potential minor issue, but Clarke had cut her off, not wanting to hear it, by telling her that just for a moment she’d thought he was going to kiss her and then she’d ruined the whole thing by hugging him and then she’d gotten the best hug of her entire life and she had been sure she’d wrecked it but then he’d asked her if he should call… (She’d almost fainted by the end of that sentence – it would seem that she’d forgotten the magic of breathing in her excitement) 

Raven laughed, and allowed the issue of Clarke’s deep and early involvement to pass by. But Clarke knew, even as her excitement and hope and other, warm, fuzzy feelings filled her that it couldn’t last. Bellamy knew the name of his soul mate, and Octavia had told her it wasn’t hers. This was a vaguely Romeo and Rosaline style romance (If Rosaline had ever returned Romeo’s feelings):

She was head over heels for someone who was sweet and kind and sensitive – and he was essentially just waiting for his Juliette. Still, at least in that story she was the only one of the three to survive. 

Despite this sense of impending doom, her date had made her way too happy, and continued to buoy her mood for the rest of the week. It took Monroe all of five minutes to ask whom the special someone was, and her supervising director gave her the strangest look when she’d started humming under her breath. Even Raven, who Clarke knew was still worried, let her enjoy that week, and regaled Clarke with a hundred stories of what a pain her group assignment was turning out to be (Everyone in her group was stupid, apparently – except for, most annoyingly of all, Wick) Bellamy had called by Sunday afternoon, and they’d talked for almost half an hour about nothing. He even called again on Wednesday, and so the week passed, with Clarke in a small bubble of joy. 

That was until, Octavia called her on the next Sunday afternoon. 

“Hey, Clarke. How are you?” The conversation had started out blandly enough. 

“Good thanks, you?” 

“Fine, fine. Um, can I ask you a question?’ 

“Sure.” By this stage, Clarke’s radar was pinging, desperately trying to tell her that something was wrong. 

“Um, it’s… Oh man, I hate talking on the phone. It’s just that, well, Bellamy’s being stupid. When was the last time he called?”

“Wednesday. Why?” Clarke was immediately throwing herself full throttle into panic mode. Was he hurt? Was everything okay? Why didn’t Octavia ever just call like a normal person?

“It’s just… Well, I’m not entirely sure what’s up with him – would you mind calling?” 

“Sure, I’ll call him now. But is there something I should know?” Clarke’s radar was still pinging. 

“No, I don’t think so… argh, just call him!” She laughed a little at the end, but it was the nervous laugh of someone who was deeply concerned.

“Okay, give my love to Lincoln, O.” 

“Done.” And just like that, the line was dead. 

Within seconds, the phone was ringing to the tune of Bellamy’s number, and she was forcing herself to sound normal for when he picked up. 

“Yeah – llo” Bellamy answered, and Clarke felt better within an instant. 

“Hey. Is everything okay?”

“Yes. Why…? Never mind, O asked you to call, didn’t she?”

“Maybe. She sounded worried.” 

“Yeah, well I don’t know. I’m fine.” Clarke had never heard him be so short with her before. 

“Oh. Sorry to bother you.” She said softly, and went to hang up. 

“No!” Annoyed at herself even as she did it, she lifted the phone back to her ear. “Um, I mean, she called because she wants me to ask you on another date; So like, do you want to?”

Suddenly annoyed, Clarke asked coldly. “Want to what?” 

“Go on another date?” 

“Fine. Text me the details.” She said, keeping her tone cool, and hung up. 

Again within moments, Raven was picking up the phone. “Hey Clarke, what’s happening?”

Clarke took a deep breath and let it out as a sigh. “So, basically, I don’t think Bellamy’s interested in me at all, and I really like him but there is absolutely no way that I can date someone who is only asking me out because his sister is peer-pressuring him to!” By the end, Clarke was shrieking into the emptiness of her apartment. 

“Oh wowsers… What happened?” 

“Octavia called me to call him and she sounded worried so I did and then he was all like ‘well O wants me to take you out on a date’ and then he was like ‘so do you wanna?” And I almost said no. And the only reason I didn’t is because I really like him, Raven! What am I meant to do?”

“Jeez, that sucks.” Raven paused for a second after that, presumably considering her advice. “Look, Clarke, he’s hopefully just clueless, yeah? Maybe after this next date, he’ll figure it out?”

“I hope so!” After going around like that for a couple of minutes, Clarke was feeling much better (If not still super angry) and allowed Raven to return to her studies. Of course, it was that moment that Bellamy decided to call.

“Hello.” Clarke greeted him as icily as possible – if he didn’t like her at all (The whole not-his-soul-mate thing was clearly rubbing her the wrong way) then he would not get off entirely scot free. 

“Hey. Um, look, I just realised how that probably sounded before and… and well, its not how it sounds. I’m not just asking you out because O wants me to – I want to, too. But yeah I just need a push sometimes so I’m sorry for sounding so bad.” 

Immediately, Clarke felt some of her worry melt away. She didn’t want to be his charity date, but she did like him, so she allowed herself to be melted like winter into spring. 

“No worries. Hey, why don’t we head to that new café…” And soon, they were talking normally again. But whether Clarke knew it or not, a seed of doubt had been planted, a little bit of insecurity that would not be so easily fixed by a quick apology over the phone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Everything's pretty hectic right now, so I don't know for sure that I'll be able to post next week - but I'll definitely do my best! So yeah, this is probably not my best writing ever, but once things (things being exams) settle down, it should be a bit better!


	5. Chapter 5

Bellamy knew that he’d screwed up – and the sad fact of the matter was that he was simply scared. He’d loved that date, he’d wanted to see her again, he’d called twice in a week (Really, he couldn’t see how he could be any clearer.) But then he’d talked to Murphy about it, and suddenly he was back in free fall. He didn’t really know this girl, and she wasn’t his soul mate – talking to Murphy (One of the ‘no serious commitment until my soul mate’ kind of person) had simply filled him with fear and a strong desire to return to his old way of life, lonely though it was. So he and Murphy had gone out on the Thursday, and Bellamy had gone home with a stranger. 

And he had again on Friday night, and again on Saturday. Of course, as though she had some sort of sixth sense, Octavia had called him on Sunday morning. 

“Bellamy, what’s up with you? I haven’t heard from you for days.” She didn’t even bother to say hello. 

“Well, I don’t want to go through with it.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me. Why?” That forced Bellamy to contend with simply saying to his sister that he was too scared to, or just say that he wasn’t going to. Being a responsible adult, he of course chose the latter. 

“I don’t wanna.” 

“You sound like a child.” Not exactly what he’d been looking for, although he had to admit it was deserved. 

“I don’t want to, okay?”

“What, is she boring or something?” 

“No, she’s…” Bellamy had to actively force himself not to say perfect. “Brilliant.” 

“So, what’s the problem then? Bell, you know you can tell me anything, right?” 

“I know. But the thing is… I don’t want to!” Now he really did sound like a child. 

“Fine, fine. Fine!” Octavia sighed, frustrated. “When are you going to tell Clarke?”

“I wasn’t…” He stopped himself, but he’d let it out – he hadn’t really been planning to tell Clarke at all – he’d been hoping that she’d call Octavia and hear it that way. 

“Oh hell no. You do not get to do that.” And just like that, the line was dead. Suddenly frustrated beyond belief, Bellamy started to pace around his apartment, despite the summer heat. And then his phone rang. 

It was Clarke, and he opened as causally as he could – he was, after all, about to break this whole stupid mistake off with her. And then she’d answered, her voice layered with concern, and hope, and Bellamy suddenly realised that he did not want to break things off with her at all. Then, even as he spoke, he’d realised that Octavia had called her, and all his annoyance flooded back, causing him to be short, and, quite frankly, more than a little rude. And then she’d gone to hang up, and he couldn’t let her, crying out ‘No!”. And then she was back on the phone, and he was asking her on a date and blaming it all Octavia again! So that, even to his ears as she responded with icy fire in her voice, he sounded pretty bad. Even so, she’d agreed to go on a date with him. 

Unsure how to fix the mess he knew he’d just created, he called Octavia to explain. She was understandably un-impressed. Still, she was there for him, and told him to call Clarke back and apologise – or, alternatively, to break up, if he couldn’t decide what he wanted. 

So, after a few minutes of deep breathing and planning what he wanted to say, he called again. And, of course, started babbling straight away. Still, he was fairly sure he’d covered all his bases, and as soon as they were talking normally again, he wanted to sing, feeling a strange weight, one that he hadn’t even really noticed, lift off of his chest. He knew then, in that exact moment, that he’d made the right choice. And that he would do everything in his power to make sure that Clarke knew that. 

After the next date, Bellamy relaxed into the new rhythm of his life with Clarke in it. The days began to shorten, and the leaves swirl around his feet as he trudged to school; But Clarke seemed to enjoy the change, and dragged him on car trips every other weekend to go and find some quite to place to see the most beautiful leaves. 

Sometimes the car was quiet, but it wasn’t a horrible, oppressive silence where no one can think of anything to say – it was a warm, comfortable quiet that screamed louder than words how well they knew each other by then. Of course, when they did speak, their words were full to the brim with emotion – trust, understanding, and the slight tang of waiting for a bittersweet ending. Not to mention, Bellamy enjoyed the challenges that Clarke so often threw his way. Often they were joking challenges, like sarcastic words that made him laugh and dared him to respond in kind, but as time passed, new challenges joined the sarcastic ones. They talked over progressively bigger questions, sometimes about the science behind the stars, and where their spirits were meant to fit in with enormity of it all, and other times about where they wanted to go, and how they wanted to get there. 

Bellamy had never realised before how spending so much time in a car with someone would deepen their connection so quickly, make it so much more. And, even better, she seemed to be far more comfortable with him, and he could only hope that she could see that he was sure, and that he’d changed for the better because of her. 

And when they arrived at their destination, Clarke would often sketch the leaves as they fell, and one weekend she brought her set of watercolours, and Bellamy watched in fascination as she carefully added all the colours of each leaf as they’d appeared as they fell. Once, she forgot exactly which colours a leaf had been, and the two of them had spent an hour filled with laughter trying to find it. Another day they’d built huge leaf piles like the ones when they were kids, and dove into them fearlessly, with shrieks of laughter escaping them. And, when the constraints of homework and studying grew be too much, the would load up Bellamy’s little car with all the work they could fit and would study out in the open, revelling in each other’s presence.

Of course, eventually all the leaves had fallen, and it was cold enough to make it feel like the very ink had been frozen in their pens, and Clarke’s watercolours would disturb the colour patterns because little ice crystals would form almost as soon as the water touched the paper, and the rain ceased to fall, snow taking its place. 

They spent that winter curled up around their books, and around each other. Bellamy figured out how to get the old gas fireplace in his apartment working, and they spent all the time they’d spent in the car the months before in front of it, still taking about the universe, and laughing and joking and getting to know each other inside out. One day, Clarke told Bellamy with unshed tears making her blue eyes seem even bigger than before, about her father’s death. 

She told him of how he’d had a heart attack, and how her mother, a respected doctor and surgeon, had completely missed and ignored his symptoms. He’d listened attentively, with the strong compulsion to cry for all she’d lost but without being unable to summon a single tear, as she told him how she still hadn’t forgiven her mother, how she still carried all that bitterness in her like a vice. She cracked slightly, a single tear slipping out, as she’d whispered that it had all happened when she was ten. 

She’d gone for neigh on fourteen years without forgiving her mother and he could see that it was killing her as surely as if she’d swallowed a mouthful of lead that day. And there was nothing that he could do for her. So he held her, felt her sob into his chest, felt her body convulse, and held her a little closer. She cried for hours, until, at about two in the morning, he’d felt her grip on his shirt slacken slightly, and felt her slowly fall asleep, exhausted. He carried her to his bed, and tucked her in, before falling asleep on the couch. 

The next morning he made her breakfast, and they both pretended that they couldn’t see the puffiness of her eyes, nor their redness. In fact, the only acknowledgement that she made about the whole thing was to, as she walked out the door, turn and thank him more sincerely than he’d ever been thanked for anything in his life. And somehow he knew that she didn’t quite know how to let him know that she trusted him, wasn’t sure how to put it into words; and he didn’t know how to tell her that he trusted her too.

So in a few weeks time, just before Christmas, when they were again at his place in front of the fire, he told her, with ever looking away from the strange blue flames, about his own childhood. He told her of how he’d basically raised Octavia himself; how they’d been forced to keep her a secret from the authorities for fear that she’d be put in a home away from them. He spoke softly of keeping Octavia quiet while his mother entertained ‘visitors’ so that she could keep them afloat, and he told Clarke of the day that he’d realised that if he and Octavia were ever going to go to college, he have to get a job and start saving that very day. He even told her of the day the police came to tell him she’d died in a car accident. He was careful not to cry, to hold it in – he was good at it by then, but Clarke looked into his eyes and her tears fell, and he knew that she was crying for him, because he couldn’t. 

They spent that night with Bellamy’s head in her lap, her soft tears wetting his hair and dripping onto his face so that at one stage he couldn’t tell if maybe he’d been crying after all. They fell asleep like that, in front of a fire that was far too old and rickety to really be allowed to burn all night, and with one of her hairs tangled in his hair comfortingly, and the other gripped in his like it was his only lifeline. 

And in the morning, he wondered when that had become true. 

\-------

Clarke understood, just like she hoped Bellamy had, that telling her all of that was his way of showing that he trusted her, and she loved him for it. Because by the time that Christmas came, which they spent at Octavia’s and Lincoln’s, it was the only thing in her whole world she was sure of. 

She loved the way his eyes crinkled when he smiled, how the skin under his freckles paled during winter, leaving them as clear as constellations against the dark night sky. She loved the way he raised his eyebrow at her when she joked with him, and she loved the way that she didn’t need to fill their silences with awkward chatter anymore. She loved his kindness, she loved how he loved Octavia, and she loved how nothing was beneath him. She loved that he would spend an hour with her just looking for a leaf, and that she would do anything to see him happy. She loved that he’d just held her when she needed it, and hadn’t tried to console her or preach to her; She loved that he’d invited her to his family Christmas after only a few months of dating, and held her hand as she’d called her mother for the first time in months. 

Yes, Clarke Griffin was deeply, head-over-heels in love with Bellamy Blake. 

As the joys of spring finally began to break through the monotony of winter, she realised that she could no longer imagine life without him. They spent that spring searching out tiny blossoms for Clarke to draw, and sometimes paint. She noticed that his apartment slowly filled with sketches of flowers and butterflies and last fall’s leaves and she felt her heart swell. 

Finally it grew warm enough to study outside again, and they went back to their fall haunts to watch the new leaves fill the emptiness where the old ones had been. They saw all the places they’d grown to love covered in fire slowly grow into soft places of greens and the occasional pinks – Clarke had never before found time to notice how many hundreds of greens their were, and although each were beautiful, she had to resist the compulsion to simply draw him, over and over and over again. 

And the summer – they spent that summer at beaches and stretched out in the sun, the cool water soothing Clarke’s inevitable burns. They went home for Octavia and Lincoln’s wedding, for which Bellamy was the man of honour, and to Clarke’s great excitement she was invited by Octavia to be a bridesmaid. The gesture touched Clarke deeply. Although she and Octavia had fought briefly over her meddling at the start of her relationship with Bellamy, she had been growing ever closer to her, and had found her to be an amazing young woman. However, she’d never expected that honour, and so couldn’t even find it in her to complain when she was forced into a truly horrendous dress. 

The ceremony was stunning, with a beautiful speech about love; it had her close to tears, and she couldn’t stop herself from looking at Bellamy, who’d smiled at her – he’d been watching her too. Bellamy spoke well, and they danced long into the night – to the pop tunes that only really allowed room for jumping up and down, and then, as the night progressed, to the slower, more ‘couple-y’ tunes. The only time they danced apart was when they had to – Bellamy was expected to, by tradition, dance with the maid of honour, and Clarke to dance with one of the other groomsmen. Octavia’s maid of honour was a an extremely beautiful but equally extremely intimidating woman called Indra, and Clarke was paired with a slim man called Jasper – it took her three seconds to realise that he was a massive stoner type, but she was pleasantly surprised to see that he was still able to carry a lively conversation (She’d clearly spent too much time at med school) and he was good fun. But she was shocked at herself for the amount of jealousy seeing Bellamy dancing with Indra caused her, and when they were re-united to dance together again, she also couldn’t help the relief that coursed through her body. 

She knew it was stupid, she did; but she couldn’t help it by the same token. 

Still, the wedding was an overwhelming success. Clarke stayed over that night with Bellamy, and he held her closer than he ever had before, and she felt safe in his arms. 

By the time that the school year started again, Clarke was knee deep in her internship with the hospital, but the end of her training was well in sight. Again, summer began to burn away in a flurry of leaves, and again Bellamy drove her out to all the places she now thought of as ‘theirs’. She’d never been so happy in her life – of that, she was sure. 

Even Raven had come around in seeing Clarke’s joy – but the both still knew that she was determined to be ready for the fall out when it finally arrived. For now though, they simply allowed it to be as though Raven wasn’t going to have to pick up all her pieces. 

Clarke had also, by the time they’d been together for a year, begun to read up about the accuracy of the Soul Mate Determiner. The Determiner was a computer program that had a database of every single DNA strand belonging to anyone alive (The samples were taken at birth) and it used DNA and other probability algorithms to determine soul mates. She was starting to hope, just quietly, that it could be gotten wrong. She read numerous studies done on those who chose not to read their names; although, they did sign for them. That way, neither of the two parties knew who their soul mate was meant to be – and, almost 100% of the time, they ended up with their soul mate anyways. 

But she also read essays decrying the system for what it had the potential to do to relationships – many claimed that those who went into relationships knowing that that person was their soul mate were more likely to stick it out, even when in a ‘conventional’ relationship, they would have long since walked away. 

She even found herself reading novels about people who didn’t know who their soul mate was – although, she never read a novel about someone in as odd a position as her (Knowing that her soul mate’s name was alliterative, but not actually knowing who they were), and most of the novels were just wishful thinking anyways – normal person doesn’t get their soul mate’s name for what ever reason and then their soul mate turns out to be really rich and handsome and smart... She quickly gave up on them. She supposed she'd figure it out - later. 

\-------  
Although Clarke didn’t know it, and he didn’t know that she was researching, Bellamy too had been looking into what the chances were of their relationship making it. And, honestly, the stats were not encouraging. Still, he figured that that was fine, so long as he didn’t meet someone actually called Clarke Griffin. To be fair, he was beginning to seriously think that he wouldn’t, and he was happy with that – He wanted to stay with his Clarke as long as he could, even if her last name was indeed Smith.

In fact, he began actively avoiding places that he thought (For whatever odd reason – sometimes he just got a vibe) he might meet Clarke Griffin. And he was succeeding brilliantly – never mind that there aren’t exactly all that many Clarke Griffin’s out there – until one day, when he was marking some essays. 

And, as he went to match the student number (2047) with a name, he spotted it out of the corner of his eye. 

‘2034’ – Clarke Griffin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! I hope you enjoy this!
> 
> I'm a week out from exams so there's no way I'll be able to update next weekend, but the week after I'll be free to write again, so sorry in advance... :)


	6. Chapter 6

He blinked. 

Still, the name stared back at him, the name he’d been avoiding for a year. He hadn’t been on Facebook since he and Clarke started dating, for fear that she might show up on his ‘recommended friends’ list or something like that. He blinked again, rubbing at his eyes with the back of his hand – he was tired, he’d been marking for hours, maybe…?

No. 

2034 was still Clarke Griffin, and he was still screwed. For a moment, he wondered what would happen if he met her, imagined falling in love with her and riding off into the sunset…

But that only lasted until he realised that the hair he was imagining billowing in front of him was white blond and the only eyes he could imagine staring into were hers. Suddenly, Bellamy was caught in an impossible bind. 

Should he leave Clarke, for the hope of what every fairy-tale he’d ever heard had promised? Because, despite how perfect he and Clarke felt, he’d been promised his whole life that meeting his soul mate would be a thousand times better, like finding joy bottled up into a person. He knew, of course, that that would not always be the case – it didn’t matter how much you liked someone, how well you fit together, you would still argue and hurt – but the whisper of more happiness was already setting in, wriggling under his skin, latching on to him. 

Or should he stay with her, trusting that the universe would shape them together, making them as good as soul mates, if not better?

Or, perhaps the cruellest option he had – he could stay with Clarke, pretending that everything was the same, and seek out this ‘Clarke Griffin’. He could try and have the best of both worlds, or at the very least know what he was missing out on. 

Countless rom-coms and novels had taught him over the years that it’s always best to take the kindest option – which would be to do nothing, stay with Clarke and forget about 2034. But a lifetime of watching those same rom-coms taught him that it would always work out for the best. 

Suddenly, Bellamy felt sick to his stomach. 

His first instinct was to call Clarke, and he only realised then that he was already holding onto his phone. But he forced himself to put it on the desk in front of him. Clarke, no matter what he chose, could not know that he’d even considered his options, couldn’t help him make this choice. Bellamy was without his first choice of confidant, his constant support. 

Of course, having made that choice, awful as it was, he wanted to call Octavia. He knew that she’d support him, no matter what choice he made – but he also knew full well how happy it made Octavia to see him and Clarke, how much faith she had in them. The big brother in him that was always looking out for his tiny sister immediately refused to destroy her faith in that. Not for this reason. He wanted to protect her ideals, and to keep her hope alive. That way, whatever he chose, he could make up a better excuse, hurt her less. 

Who else would he call? Murphy, who always tempted him to go with the darker instincts of his soul, who wouldn’t really care anyways? Miller, who was always there for him… yet, suddenly, it felt like Miller didn’t know a thousand things about Bellamy and that that distance was too great to be breached for an issue like this. 

He was entirely alone. 

Whatever he chose, for whatever reason, would be his choice alone. He would have to live with it, and he would have to make amends with it if he chose wrong. He found himself wishing that all this were already over, that all he had to contend with were hindsight and a lingering sense of regret, for that was surely what faced him. 

But it wasn’t over. He was still sitting at his small desk at his college, a stack of unmarked papers teetering next to him and a number staring at him with a quiet persistence that seemed to hold his eyes to it. 

He could not escape, at least not forever. Still, he didn’t love any of his options. 

Somewhere deep inside of him, he began to choose what he would do. He hadn’t realised it consciously by then, but his desire not to hurt anyone was winning out, yet his desire not to miss out was equally important. So he chose. Because he didn’t even know yet what he’d chosen, he didn’t need to contend with the feelings of shame and fear that came with his choice… yet. 

He chose to seek out this ‘Clarke Griffin’, and to stay with Clarke Smith. 

He began the next day; having decided to ‘sleep on it’, he found himself walking to that class with a spring in his step, and an offer to call the morning roll on the tip of his tongue. 

“Clarke Griffin?” He called into the quiet lecture theatre. His eyes roved the room with a strange determination, curious to hear how she might answer. He was never early enough to this class to call the roll (Who would when it starts at 8am?) so chances were he’d never even heard her voice before. 

“Here.” She had a high voice, which he was surprised to find that he found irritating. He always thought that soul mates were meant to be instantly attracted to each other like with… (He didn’t even let himself finish that thought) The rest of the day passed without incident. 

Until Clarke called.

\------

As is often the way with life changing days, Clarke had no idea that that particular Wednesday was going to be one. In fact, she’d found it rather comforting in its routine feeling.

She’d woken early, showered, gone to the hospital, and been put on the orthopaedic ward for the day – clearly someone, somewhere, had decided that she wasn’t seeing enough of the world of the hospital, and was determined to mix things up a little (Only a little – she’d been on the Orthopaedic ward for a month by then) After a day of checking bandages and swelling and authorising extra painkillers she was more than ready for a rest. She’d gone straight home again, daydreaming as she walked. 

The reading she’d been doing still dominated her thoughts. She’d started to wonder more about the ethics of the soul mate system. It was odd, really, debating it in her head without twenty of her classmates giving their two cents. It was a staple class debate issue, with teachers often forcing the class to divide into two and debate for both soul mates being allowed to know their partner’s name, and then the other class to debate against – but, as it had only just begun to occur to Clarke, they were never asked to debate against the idea altogether. 

Old arguments swirled in her mind, echoes of arguments presented only to achieve a mark, not out of feeling. Arguments like “Both partners knowing creates emotional safety – no more people lying about their soul mate’s name. Of course both should know.” and “Having both partners know in advance creates a sense of inevitability that is too strong to ignore. No one would even try to have a relationship other than with his or her soul mate, which could be unhealthy. Only one partner should know.” There was a sense of inevitability about those arguments anyways – a sense that it would never matter what the students themselves thought. Things would stay the same forever. 

Except now they were joined by new arguments that seemed wrong in their very nature of existing. What if no one should know? Not the government, not the people themselves. No one at all. Of course, it heightened the risk considerably. People might not recognise their soul mate, or they might let them go over a small argument. But it also raised the stakes of each relationship – because no one would know for sure, everyone would have to assume that their current relationship was the one. There would be no more relationships like Clarke’s, no more hopeless romantics wasting their lives waiting for their soul mate to show up out of the blue. 

If no one knew their soul mate’s name, Clarke wouldn’t have to live in fear of Bellamy one day meeting a stunning stranger and learning their name and riding off into the sunset with them, leaving her and her broken heart behind. If the whole soul mate system had never even been invented, if the blood testing and the formulas weren’t required when babies were born, sealing their fate with a name long before they would even know their own, then Clarke felt like she and Bellamy could make it with out a problem. Bellamy could learn her last name without causing a problem for any of his friends, and she wouldn’t be caught up in continuing a lie so as not to have to explain to him why she’d started in the first place; She wouldn’t have to hide her credit cards or her letters or even her Facebook account, although she was sure that Bellamy either didn’t have Facebook account or didn’t use it anymore. 

In the end, all the thinking about ‘what ifs’ was driving Clarke insane – so she called Bellamy. 

“Hey, Clarke. What’s up.” Bellamy sounded casual, like he did everyday, yet something deep inside Clarke sensed that there was a change in him. 

“Oh, nothing much really – I just needed someone to talk to. Anything interesting happen today? Meet anyone new?” 

“Nope.” Bellamy’s voice was strangled. 

“Bell? What happened?” Clarke’s tone was teasing, but she was not at all impressed. She hated having things kept from her – she always had. 

“Nothing!” His voice was its normal timber that time, but it was tinged with annoyance. 

“Fine, fine! You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.” Clarke felt some of her temper flare up out of her stomach as she spoke the words, making them sound accusatory when really she’d just rather move on. She drew breath to start talking about her day at the hospital instead when…

“I didn’t do anything wrong!” 

“I wasn’t saying you did.” Clarke paused, Bellamy’s enthusiastic, unprompted denial of guilt immediately made her suspicious. “But I am now. What’s up?”

“Nothing!” He sounded sad too, that time.

Suddenly, Clarke could guess at what had happened. 

“Did you meet… them?” Bellamy’s denial was swift and cold, but Clarke still knew. She knew that the great day that had always been coming was upon her, and she felt ice cover her heart at the thought. 

“Okay, fine, you didn’t meet them.” Clarke finally hissed down the line when Bellamy’s renunciation grew too much for her to deal with. “But I hope you know that if you did then I’d actually support you? Like, just tell me the truth!”

Even as Clarke said the words she knew somewhere deep down that they were a lie. She didn’t know that she could force herself to endure the pain of simply being his friend now that he meant so much to her romantically, never mind support him in his quest for a soul mate. 

“Fine then.” Bellamy’s voice was dangerously quiet, and Clarke almost laughed at how angry they both were. “I met her. She’s pretty and I’d reckon she’s a hell of a lot nicer than you are. But, just in case you were wondering, she knows nothing about me – She doesn’t even know my name.” 

“Congratulations. Maybe now you can find the love of your life and flit off into the sunset.” 

“I certainly hope so.” 

“Fine.”

“Fine.” There was silence for a moment, and then the line went dead. 

\-----

As soon as Bellamy hung up the phone, he had to resist calling her straight back to apologise. 

It was just that she’d caught him, it felt like, and she’d pushed, and he hadn’t been allowed to figure things out for himself at all. That was all he’d really wanted. To know for sure, on his own, without anyone trying to influence him. That was why he'd reacted so childishly... and he felt trapped by his own behaviour, too emotional to do what he should and actually call. 

But now he didn’t have his choice over what he wanted to choose, and the sick feeling in the pit of his stomach made him wonder whether he and Clarke were over for good.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey Guys! Sorry for the extended break (Exams got kinda out of hand) but I should be able to update next week as per normal :)


	7. Chapter 7

“Maybe I should just call him?” Clarke asked Raven miserably a week later. 

“Oh hell no. You deserve better than that dick.” Raven said, all fire and brimstone. Of course, Clarke knew full well that Raven was simply trying to be supportive – she didn’t really think that Bellamy was that much of a dick, yet she’d been calling him seriously unflattering names all week. 

“But?” 

“No. If he wants to apologise, let him call you to grovel. As soon as you call him, you give him back some power. Keep that power all for yourself, my lovely. You deserve it.” 

“It’s not like her was actually cheating on me though.” Clarke muttered, but this was the 16th time they’d had this discussion, so it felt more like a reflex than anything else.

“Maybe, but it sounded like he was sure as hell planning on it. Besides, even if he wasn’t physically cheating, he was well on the way to emotionally cheating on you. Don’t stand for that shit, you are worth the world and just because dicks like Bellamy Blake and… well, you know, can’t see that doesn’t mean it’s not true.” Clarke smiled a little at her friend, Finn Collin’s name hovering beside them, joining Bellamy’s in Raven’s tirade. Then she tried to figure out what exactly ‘emotional cheating’ might constitute. Finally, she simply gave up. 

“I don’t want to go to the hospital tomorrow.” Clarke whispered, as the threat of dealing with even more human pain on top of her own became almost too much. In the days following Bellamy’s confession, or whatever it was, the hospital had allowed her to forget, but the weekend made going make there seem a herculean effort – far too much for her to ever manage. 

Raven simply hugged Clarke tightly at that. “If worse comes to worst you could always just have the day off.” 

“Maybe.” Clarke groaned, immediately overtaken by guilt. They stood like that, with Raven essentially holding Clarke up, for a while. It made Clarke feel better, somehow. Like she really was loved – just not the way she wanted to be. Not by Bellamy. 

“He’s a twat.” Raven intoned finally. “Let’s get some pizza and watch more Disney movies, and listen to angry Taylor Swift or something.” 

Clarke giggled then, feeling fierce gratitude well up inside her. Raven put on Bad Blood and dug through her Netflix (complaining bitterly about how all her recommended movies were suddenly Disney movies) until she found one that she could survive watching, while Clarke ordered pizza. After re-watching Tangled, they just talked for a while, Clarke telling all of the best stories that she had of her and Bellamy – the time they’d, for no particular reason, driven through three states until they found a cute looking ice-cream parlour and then driven straight back again – and she whispered about how she’d read all the studies, she’d known that it couldn’t possibly work out between them, and yet how she’d allowed hope to grow inside her. She didn’t cry that time, just drew the words out of herself like they were poison. Each one helped her heal, but the process was excruciating. 

Then she waited. 

A week passed – a week of bustle at the hospital (they’d decided to move her back to emergency, so every second was intense), during which she swore that every single person in the city had gone out and gotten themselves sick or injured just for her benefit, a week of meals and hanging out quietly with Raven and talking to Wells on the phone and waiting. 

On the Friday, when Clarke mentioned how she felt, Raven asked her why, and what. Why on earth was she waiting, and what the hell was she waiting for?

“I’m not sure.” She’d admitted, feeling tired even as she spoke. “Maybe I’m waiting for a reason to get better. Maybe I’m waiting for him to call, maybe I’m waiting until I can think again – it feels like I’m living my life through a fog, all my decisions pre-made and all I can do is follow them and pray that I don’t wake up one day six feet under with no idea how I got there. Maybe I’m waiting to wake up there. Maybe I’m waiting to understand why – Why he cracked as soon as I asked, why he couldn’t have been kinder, why he didn’t at least tell me in person. All I know is that I’m waiting, and I want to stop.”

Raven had said something encouraging, Clarke was sure, but for the life of her she couldn’t remember what it was. It was actually Wells who said the words that resonated with her the most. 

“Well, I don’t know about all the other waiting stuff, Clarke, but I’d say he cracked so fast because he felt guilty. He was doing the wrong thing, and he was actually starting to use you… I don’t really know, obviously, but if that was me, I think he was feeling so guilty that the words were pushing at his lips, echoing in his skull so that when you asked they sprang free without his even realising, in a way. I’d say that that has a hell of a lot more to do with him and his guilt that it does with you.” 

“Thank you.” Clarke had whispered, feeling a tad better. 

And that was how the week after passed. Not so much waiting, and a little more healing. She found it easier to talk to people, and her eyes weren’t so watery all the time. She was getting there, she decided, and she’d be okay. Maybe not that week, and probably not the next, but one day she’d wake up and realise that it didn’t sting anymore, like when you cut yourself shaving and every shower stings… until one morning you step out into the steam and remember that you didn’t even notice. 

Raven and Wells saw the difference, watched as smiles began to slowly crawl back into Clarke’s vocabulary, and laughter began to feel real to her again. They smiled back, and Clarke knew that they would always be there for her; even when she went into relationships that were dumb because they were meant to end. She loved them for it, with a fierceness that surprised her – the numbness was wearing off. She could even listen to ‘I wish you would’ without crying. 

Clarke Griffin, as she was once again able to call herself, even though that in itself hurt, was going to be okay. 

\------

Bellamy spent a week after the phone call wandering around in shock. 

He couldn’t believe that he and Clarke were over. He missed her with every breath, and so often he almost picked up the phone to apologise, or just to tell her about his day. He just wanted to hear her voice, know that she was still alive and well, and know that he was still wanted. But then he would remind himself that he’d been a complete dickhead and that of course she didn’t want him in her life, and that if anyone had treated Octavia like that he would be telling her the exact same thing. He’d be telling her that whoever had treated her like that was horrible and that she was better off without them… provided that he wasn’t already hunting them down for hurting his sister. 

The worse part was that he couldn’t even blame her. Usually in a break up, he found some small reason to blame the other person, to rage inside until he was ready to go, or to simply begin his detachment. With Clarke, though, he hadn’t been able to blame her for more than a moment. Yeah, maybe she’d pushed, but he hadn’t been doing the right thing anyways, and he also hadn’t been even a little bit subtle. It had been as though he’d wanted to be caught. 

In the misery of the following week, though, he couldn’t imagine why. He couldn’t even bring himself to remember why he’d done the wrong thing in the first place, why he hadn’t just let fate just do its job – if he and this Clarke Griffin in the sophomore history class were meant to be, surely they would have found each other without Bellamy treating his Clarke like shit, and preparing himself to emotionally cheat on her – which, to be fair, did sound kind of weird, but they’d been exclusive for a year, and Bellamy knew that that meant emotionally too. He’d not been meant to go and seek out strangers to fall in love with. He kept on telling himself that he’d wanted to choose… but with each day that excuse looked weaker and weaker. 

Octavia wanted to know what had happened to Clarke a week later. Usually their almost nightly phone calls consisted of at least one story of something he and Clarke had done, or at the very least Clarke was mentioned in passing. So Octavia noticed quickly that it was as though she’d ceased to exist at all. 

“We ended it.” Bellamy had muttered shortly when Octavia’s subtle questions had grown significantly more obvious. He couldn’t bring himself to tell her the truth, which was that he’d been a dick and essentially gotten himself dumped (or maybe he’d dumped her? He wasn’t sure which anymore, and he certainly wasn’t sure which hurt more) because he’d possibly found a better offer, and offer who he hadn’t even talked to yet. 

“Oh.” Octavia sounded genuinely sad for them, and then she sounded annoyed, irrationally so, Bellamy thought. “What on earth were you thinking? She was perfect for you, dumbass!” 

“O, I just don’t really want to talk about it. Besides, she wasn’t even my soul mate.” He’d said, and ended the conversation, his heart somehow heavier for it. 

He’d been allowed to mope for a full week and a half more before Murphy got bored with it.

“Look, Bell. I get it, you’re upset. But the thing is, you know full well she’s not coming back or else you would have called.” Murphy told him. Bellamy felt himself growing irrationally angry. “Here’s the thing though – dude, your soul mate is probably sitting in that class everyday thinking about how weirdly hot she finds you – just her, by the way, I think you’re butt ugly – and wishing she knew your name and that you’d ask her out for a drink.” 

Bellamy laughed, the friendly insult grounding him somewhat. 

“So? Go ask her out.” Murphy said, as though he’d just solved world hunger or something.

“Okay?” Bellamy said, his voice strangely shaky. “Okay. I will.” His voice was firmer the second time. Murphy nodded sagely, slapped him on the back once or twice, and they went back to doing whatever it was they’d been doing. (Murphy was never one for deep emotional bonding) 

The next time Bellamy went to that history lesson he waited until right at the end before calling out. “Clarke Griffin, I need to see you at the end of class.” It was a fairly routine announcement – usually it meant that he had a practice essay to hand back or an assignment to discuss. As the rest of the class filed out, he couldn’t help wondering why on earth he’d never spoken to her before. She walked over. She had brown hair, thin and brittle looking, and dead straight. It was held up in a ponytail, and Bellamy worried for a second that it might just snap off of her head. But the second passed and it was still attached, and Bellamy noticed the rest of her features. She had tan skin, and wide, worried looking eyes, which were a strangely watery shade of blue. Her lips were thin, and her nose seemed oddly small on her face compared to her eyes. She stood mutely in front of him, obviously waiting for him to say something. 

“Hi, Clarke, right?” He smiled widely at her (his best ‘please think I’m hot’ smile. He hadn’t had to use it for a while) She blushed slightly, the colour spreading up her neck. 

“Yeah, I’m Clarke. Did you wanted anything? I think I’ve gotten all my essays back.” Her voice still grated on him inexplicably. 

“Uh, yeah.” He glanced around, not really sure that he should be using his status like this. “ Um, actually I was wondering if you wanted to go for a drink with me at some point?” 

She looked stunned, and Bellamy suddenly felt nervous, the potential importance of this meeting weighing him down. Then she shook herself slightly and said. “I’d love to. But, um, what’s your name?” 

“Bellamy Blake.” He smiled at her encouragingly, suddenly realising that she would have no idea what his name could mean. A flurry of emotions flew past her eyes, but Bellamy couldn’t decipher any of them. 

“Well then, Bellamy Blake, what time works for you?” 

They ended up going for a drink in the same bar that he and his Clarke, blonde Clarke, first met at. As Bellamy approached the door, he remembered that strange pull that seemed to force him to go inside… but that night, all he felt was a little cold in the night air. Shrugging, he pushed open the door and went inside, smiling when he spotted his date. 

The time he spent there was pleasant, sure, but he had to admit to himself as he made arrangements to meet up with her again, that he felt no compulsion to. Not the way he had with his Clarke – with her he’d felt like he was forced by some greater power to at least try. 

So a few weeks passed. Bellamy tried not to compare the two women, but found it nearly impossible – his new girlfriend wasn’t her, never knew what to say, how to put him at ease, and quite frankly, didn’t seem overly committed to making things work. 

It frustrated him, actually, her ever so slightly blasé attitude to his advances – like they didn’t even really matter to her life in the long run. Didn’t she realise that he was her soul mate? Of course, Octavia, ever the wise one (Even if she was still a little pissed at him for how he’d ended things), advised him in a clipped tone to just tell her. So he did. One night, when he’d taken her out to the park and that were sitting under the stars he worked hard to carefully and not too obviously bring up the fact that they were fated to be together (He ended up being a little more obvious than intended)

“Do you believe in soul mates?” He asked softly. It was a stupid question – why wouldn’t you believe in soul mates when you knew you had one? She tossed her still far too brittle hair as she turned to look at him, and he couldn’t help but feel that the scent was all wrong. 

“Yeah.” She smiled slightly. “I do.” 

They sat in silence for a while before Bellamy said. “Have I told you my soul mate’s name?” She stiffened beside him, almost as though she was offended, but he figured she must just be nervous. After all, it was only rude to tell someone your soul mate's name if you were looking for a stand-in relationship, and he wasn't looking for that with her - thus, she could only really be nervous. 

“No.” Her tone was surprisingly cold. 

“Well… it’s Clarke…Griffin.” He felt her freeze for a moment, and then felt her shift away from him slightly. 

“Oh Bellamy… I’m so sorry… I didn’t know!” She said. She sounded like she was about to cry. 

“What is it?” He asked, confused, and more than a little scared. 

“I’m… not your Clarke Griffin. My soul mate’s name is Greg.” Bellamy immediately blushed, but it was an ugly blush, fuelled by intense embarrassment. “I thought you were looking for something to pass the time…” 

“Oh.” 

“Yeah. Sorry.” Of course, that explained a lot, but he felt like she’d slapped him. 

“I… I have to go. Bye.” He stood up and essentially ran away, feeling like an idiot. 

The first thing he did when he got home was to call Octavia. 

\------

It had been a little more than a month. Clarke was well on the way to being mended, or at least that was what she was pretending. 

She wasn’t entirely sure that she’d even be close in a year. 

So when Octavia called, she had to admit that she was of two minds as to whether or not to pick up. She could leave it, and potentially lose a lovely friend, or… well, she could pick up, and be hurt. Or Octavia could need her. As a friend. 

She picked up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey!! I hope you like this chapter, even though it's not overly fluffy - I promise they'll get there soon!! xx


	8. Chapter 8

“Hey Clarke! How are you?” Octavia sounded strangely guarded. 

“Fine. You?” 

“Fine, fine. Um, I’m just calling about… I’m just calling to…” Clarke let her hang, trusting that she’d get there in the end. “Oh my lord I hate talking on the phone. Okay, I’m calling to say…”

Again, Clarke waited. 

“That – that – That I screwed up, Clarke.” 

“What do you mean?” Clarke asked, keeping her tone overly neutral. She suddenly felt that strange magnetic feeling again, as though she was being held to the phone by some greater power. Somehow, she knew that what ever Octavia had to say would change her life irrevocably. 

“I should never had lied to the two of you, encouraged you to lie to each other.”

“What exactly are you talking about?” The words seemed bland enough, but they were dripping with a fiery anger being held back just below the surface. Clarke was realising that although Octavia meant well, she didn’t always come out looking overly rosy. 

“I, um, lied about one of Bellamy’s friends having your name as their soul mate.” 

“Why, exactly, did you do that?”

“I told you to lie because Clarke Griffin is thenameofBellamy’ssoulmate.”

“Pardon?” 

“You’re Bellamy’s soul mate, Clarke.” Immediately Clarke wanted to strangle Octavia, cry and leap for joy, all at once. However, all she could bring herself to say was:

“Oh.” 

“Yeah. Look I’m sorry, I just wanted you guys to really fall in love because I knew that you really would be perfect for him but I know he would have run for the hills if you hadn’t given him time. And it worked! He didn’t.” Clarke lost the urge to leap about and cry in favour of the urge to kill Octavia. Violently. There was no excuse in Clarke’s mind for what Octavia had done. She had, essentially, exiled Clarke to misery over the fact that Bellamy clearly thought that he’d found his real soul mate, leaving her in the dust. Not to mention that if they’d know it was meant to be permanent, they might have moved in together, maybe…. Maybe they would have planned for the future; believed in one. 

But because of Octavia, they hadn’t. 

And the worst part was that part of her knew that what she said was true. Bellamy hadn’t been in a good place for a long term relationship when they’d first started dating, and frankly, she hadn’t been ready for one either. If she’d known… would she have even believed Octavia, or Bellamy? Would she have still gone out with him? Knowing that, admitting it to herself, as she stood there holding onto the phone, her face red and flustered, simply served to make her angrier. 

“Maybe that wasn’t for you to decide, Octavia.” So many maybes. 

“I know. I’m sorry, Clarke. I shouldn’t have… I know that. But I’ve screwed up your lives, and you deserve to know everything.” 

“Thank you, I suppose.” Clarke said stiffly. She was so angry… and yet she still thought of Octavia as a friend. The raging would come later, she realised. When Wells called next, or when Raven appeared at her doorstep – but for now all that anger was stuck in her gut, making her feel sick, but she couldn’t lash out. Not yet. 

“Um, yeah. Oh, Clarke… I’m sorry…” Clarke knew that Octavia was looking for something from her, some indication that it was all going to be okay. But she couldn’t bring herself to give her one. 

“Okay, I should probably go. Sorry, Clarke.”

“Bye, Octavia.” 

The phone beeped, but Clarke didn’t move it away from her ear. She stood there listening to the static until her arm felt like it was going to fall off, and then she stood there some more. It wasn’t until her arm dropped away out of pure exhaustion that she started to cry softly. 

She cried herself out, and then made dinner. She cried as she ate, the salt of her tears making her pasta taste like heart break. She sat at the dinner table, alone, thinking of all the what-ifs and maybes and the hurt of betrayal, because she hadn’t been able to make her own choice; which was all she’d wanted out of this whole stupid mistake. All Clarke’d ever wanted, all she’d wanted since Finn Collin’s long-distance girlfriend had transferred to her high school, not telling him so it would be a surprise, only to have Clarke, asked to show her around, introduce her to Finn with a kiss… ever since that moment, when Clarke’s belief in fate and love and ‘romance’ had been shattered by a boy who couldn’t keep it in his stupid pants, all she’d wanted was to choose. 

When the time, she’d wanted to choose. That had been what she thought she was doing when she agreed to go out with Bellamy in the first place. It hadn’t been why she’d stayed… but it had been why she started, and Octavia had taken that away from her in one short phone call. 

Octavia had stolen her choice from her, and she didn’t know if she could forgive her. 

Because that was what it came down to, she realised as she did her dishes like a robot, out of tears. If she could bring herself to forgive Octavia, and in a way, herself, all she would need to do would be call Bellamy, explain, and she had no doubt he’d be relieved to find out that it had all been a mistake. 

She’d already forced herself to forgive Bellamy (Or at least, that was what she'd been telling herself) – she gained nothing from antagonising over his mistakes, from hating him for them. So over the last month she’d forgiven him. Of course, they’d still have some serious issues, should she call, but she was confident that a little bit of therapy would help them sort it out, and that it would be worth it. 

But she knew that she could ask a lot of him… but she could not ask him to choose between his soul mate and his sister. Such a choice would be impossible, and would break him, no matter who he chose. And somehow, she didn’t think that therapy could sort that out; some things were unforgivable. That was undoubtedly one of them. 

So she would have to decide, for herself. Could she forgive Octavia for essentially exposing one of her greatest insecurities, and for taking away what she’d been sure for something close to a fifth of her life would be the cure? All for a man who’d left her for the possibility of a better option. (Maybe she hadn’t quite forgiven Bellamy, after all.) Suddenly, it was all too much again, and she collapsed beside the sink, heaving ugly, dry, sobs, unsure even why everything hurt this much. 

\-------

Bellamy lived his life like an empty man. 

He missed Clarke. His Clarke, the one with the eyes like fire, the one who tasted like home. 

He missed her. And he was so conflicted because if he didn’t know better… He’d think that they were soul mates – he’d call her in an instant. But he knew better. He couldn’t, because she had the wrong last name, and he knew now. He knew that he would never choose her over the opportunity at a fairy-tale. It sickened him, to his core, but he was curious. Curious to find out how something could possibly be better than what he had with Clarke. And, quite frankly, he was finding it hard, letting go of a lifetime’s worth of promises that he would get that fairy-tale. 

If he could just trust himself enough; trust himself that he wouldn’t hurt her again… 

But he couldn’t. 

So he lived his life like something integral to his soul was dead. 

And he didn’t call her, as much as he wanted to.

\-------

“Raven? Wells?” 

Clarke had waited a week, in the end, before she’d told either of them what she’d found out. And after waiting so long, she just wanted to say it once. She didn’t want to have to re-live the agony of telling them. 

Ever.

So she’d waited until Raven was around and then she’d called Wells (Video, of course, just like always) and then she’d told them. And now they were sitting there, neither of them saying anything. 

Until, finally, Wells asked, “Does Bellamy know? Like has Octavia told him too?” 

“I don’t know.” Clarke admitted.

“Because if she has…” Raven said, sympathy filling her eyes. 

“It changes the game somewhat.” Wells agreed. And Clarke saw why. If Octavia had just told her, then that meant that Bellamy essentially thought that he’d wrecked everything, but that the relationship was meant to end. He might still be interested in trying to figure it out. But if he knew, and he hadn’t called… it meant that he didn’t want her, no matter what. That he wasn’t interested. 

“What should I do?” She asked, her eyes welling slightly. 

Raven cocked her head to one side, the way she so often did when she was trying to figure something out. 

“I don’t think you should have to do anything.” She said, slowly. “It’s not fair.” She looked angry on Clarke’s behalf, and Clarke loved her for it. “Look, if it was me… I’d probably… quite frankly I think I’d kill Bellamy.”

She smiled weakly after that, in a way that said ‘that was only a half-joke’ and Clarke laughed haltingly. But Wells was looking at Raven like she was a genius. “Hey, guys, you know what? I think Raven’s right. Clarke shouldn’t have to do anything. All she’d be doing would be putting herself out to be hurt again, and she’s done nothing wrong. The Blake siblings… Well, they’re not looking overly fabulous right now, are they? All we need to do is figure out how to make that work so that the Blakes have to atone a little.” 

They sat in silence for a while, until an idea began to occur to Clarke. 

“Okay, so, assuming that everything thing works out and Bellamy get back together, we can’t let it be over a massive land-mine of ‘what-ifs’, right? Especially for me… because, I mean, Bellamy’s already found out what ‘what if’ is like, right? Okay, I’m rambling, but, I think what I’m trying to say is… I have to know. I have to know that Bellamy wants me, just as much as I want him, if not more. I can’t put myself out there again. And that’s what you were saying, right, Wells? And what you were saying about the Blakes… I just feel like maybe… Maybe Octavia should tell him. Or tell me she’s told him. Either one.” 

“Sounds like a plan.” Raven nodded as she spoke, clearly agreeing with Clarke. 

“Okay, do you want to call her now, or later?” Wells asked. 

“Now.” She took a deep breath. “Yeah, I’m gonna call her now. But… uh…” 

“Yeah, yeah. Call me back the second you get off the phone, yeah?”

“Yep.” 

“Alright then, good luck lovely.” Wells smiled encouragingly, and then he hung up. Clarke found herself staring at the phone, still propped up against the small vase she’d painted, unable to move. Yet she felt that same tingling sensation she’d felt that night at the bar, just before she’d met Bellamy, like the phone suddenly had its own gravitational pull and she was falling hopelessly towards it. She watched as her hand moved of it’s own accord, pulled by that force, until her fingers brushed lightly against the glass. It was only then that she came out of her trace and forced herself to grip it, hands suddenly numb. 

Before she had time to rethink, she had pressed the little call button and the phone was next to her ear and it was ringing and Octavia was picking up and Clarke was panicking. Definitely panicking. Clearly, Raven sensed this, because her hand was on Clarke’s shoulder almost as soon as Clarke knew that she was freaking out. Raven’s presence steadied her, allowed her to not throw the phone away when Octavia spoke. 

“Clarke?” Her voice was hopeful, but clearly she had no idea how forgiven she was. Clarke had to admit that she couldn’t blame her for that – neither did she. 

“Yeah, Octavia, hi.” She could almost imagine Octavia baulking at not being called O. Part of her wanted to call her by her nickname, but it still felt wrong, like it would be a lie. 

“Hi.” There was a pause. Clarke had no idea what to say next, and Octavia clearly didn’t either. “You haven’t called Bellamy yet.” 

“No.” Clarke said simply, because Octavia had only been stating a fact, and so was she. 

Another pause, uncomfortable. Raven began to pat Clarke’s back the way her father used to when she was little and couldn’t sleep. The rhythm of it was still strangely comforting after all those years. 

“Look, Octavia, that actually kind of why I rang.” 

“Yeah?”

“Okay, so basically… Basically I can’t call him.” Clarke took a deep breath.

“Oh.” 

“But I need to know… have you told him? What you told me? Because he hasn’t rung, and that’s why I can’t call. Because if he knows, he needs to tell me – because, frankly, it is his fault that we’re not together at the moment.” 

“I haven’t told him.” 

“Oh.” It was the most hopeful ‘oh’ that Clarke had ever made in her life.

“Hey, Clarke?”

“Yeah?” 

“If he were to call, what would you say?”

“I think I’d tell him that I missed him.”

“Oh!” Now it was Octavia’s turn to sound impossibly hopeful. 

“Why didn’t you tell him, Octavia?” Clarke asked, suddenly so tired of all this game playing. 

“Because I thought… I guess I thought after everything I’d done to you, after I’d screwed everything up… I guess I thought you’d want to choose. And I know that it is certainly your turn to choose… since… Since, well, I’ve been choosing for you.”

More silence.

“Octavia?” 

“Yeah?” 

“You did, you know. Screw it all up.” Clarke heard Octavia breath out a soft little sigh, but it was the sigh of the wounded, not of the exasperated. But Clarke wasn’t done, because it was true what she told Octavia. She missed Bellamy, sure, but she missed the others too. She missed Jasper and Monty and Miller and god help her sometimes she missed Murphy and, she missed Octavia, too. And something about the way Raven was patting her back helped her feel optimistic, feel like she could forgive and love and be okay again. “But… Octavia, I think… I think it’ll be okay. I’ll forgive you, I know I will. Maybe not quite today, but it’ll happen, yeah? Just give me time.” 

“Thank you.” And there was so much love imbued in those two words that Clarke wondered how on earth she’d ever thought that she might not be able to.

“Tell Bellamy, and he can decide. I think it’s time he took proper ownership of what the hell it is that he wants… And Octavia? Never, ever, with hold information from me again, unless I look really ugly in something I’ve already bought, in which case I don’t want to know.” 

Raven snorted next to her, and Octavia laughed. 

“Talk to you soon, Clarke. And I really am sorry.”

“I know. Chat soon.” And just like that the line was dead and Clarke simply laughed because she felt strangely free, as though the weight of the world had been lifted off her shoulders. Because everything she’d said had been entirely true. She would forgive Octavia; she could already feel it beginning. Bellamy would call, or he wouldn’t. And if he did then she would be honest. They’d go to therapy. End up happy. And if he didn’t, Clarke had already begun remembering how to be whole without him. It had finally occurred to Clarke, just as she stood on the threshold of getting Bellamy back, that she wanted him – she didn’t need him. Just like that, like magic, it felt like the anger left her, even though she knew it hadn’t really, and she laughed. 

Raven simply raised an eyebrow, took the phone and called Wells, saying, “I need help with this one.” 

Clarke had finished laughing, but she was still smiling at the freedom of it. 

\-------

Bellamy was reading when the phone rang. Not any of those self-love/self-help he’d borrowed from the college library with the body language of a bank robber. He was well and truly done with them – they all felt preachy, and he didn’t need preachy (He knew full well he’d screwed the fuck up). So he was reading about Emperor Augustus and ancient Rome to make him feel better. 

It wasn’t really working. 

But when the phone rang he groaned anyways. He didn’t want to have to talk to any of his friends, all of whom were pushing heavily for him to grovel to Clarke until she agreed to take him back. 

“She’s good for you, dude.” Monty had said simply.

“Bellamy… Well… come on! You can’t let pride be an issue.” Miller had said, and Bellamy had wanted so badly to just say, 

“Its not my pride that’s the issue” But he didn’t. Because that would mean explaining what the hell was, and that was almost too much to bear. It sucked having to even know for himself that he didn’t deserve her, that she could do so much better than the guy who screwed her over so badly. But to say it out loud?

No way in hell. He really didn’t need his friends psycho-analysing that. Sometimes they were like his own person fleet of self help books. Damn, he hated those things. 

And then Murphy, who’d just say “You’re being a dick over this.” And he’d be right, and sometimes Bellamy hated Murphy. 

Of course, worst of all would be Octavia, who’d spend half an hour alluding to how great he and Clarke were together. And Bellamy knew that that was just how she was, that she was doing her best to look out for him, but sometimes he wished she wouldn’t. 

So when it was Octavia’s name on the screen he groaned once more before he picked up. 

“O?”

“Look, Bell… I’ve screwed up. Can I come over?”

“Of course! Are you okay?” Bellamy was already standing, striding towards his coat. 

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine.” As Octavia spoke, he heard a knock on the door. 

“You sure?” He asked, now heading back for the door. When he opened it, there was Octavia, looking vaguely ill. 

“Yep.” She said, with a watery smile. They both hung up their respective phones. “I wanted to call you last night but… I knew you were grading and you’re always so much more stressed when you’re grading and I really need to tell you this in person and I’m so so sorry.” 

She swayed slightly and Bellamy clasped her arm. 

“Come in, O, yeah?”  
“Yeah.” 

Within three minutes Bellamy was making coffee and Octavia was sitting, and Bellamy knew why she looked sick. 

She was guilty. Horribly so, and had probably been carrying whatever this was around for weeks. 

“What did you do, O?” He asked, and she started. Yes, she was impossibly guilty and whatever it was that she’d down it’d been eating at her for a while. “It won’t get better until you tell me the truth. But you know that already?” He made it a question, but other siblings knew that Octavia would tell him everything. 

“I asked Clarke to lie to you.” She took a deep breath. “Her real name isn’t Clarke Smith. I asked her to lie to you because I thought that if she told you the truth you’d run like hell. I wasn’t sure that you were ready, and I know that it was wrong, but… Look, Bell, I screwed up.” 

“That wasn’t your decision, Octavia, and you know that. Whether or not I was ready for a relationship with my soul mate was up to me. And Clarke. And you took away our right to chose.” Somewhere he was furious, but mostly he just felt numb. He’d made the stupidest mistake of his life on the promise of a soul mate when he’d been dating her for a year.

And of course, there was the part of him that was Octavia’s parent in a way that his Mum had never been, the part that wanted to hug her and tell her that everything would be okay, that everything broken was fixable. But he also didn’t want to lie to her and he wasn’t sure that this was. 

“I know, Bell. I know…” She wasn’t crying, but he could imagine she wanted to. He was grateful that she wasn’t though. That would make everything so much worse. 

“Look, O, I still love you, I’ll always love you, but right now I’m actually kind of mad at you and I think you should probably go. I’ll call when I’m ready.” His voice came out dead and toneless. 

Octavia nodded once. And then she nodded again. “Thanks for the coffee Bell. And I love you too.” She said with a small, very fake, smile. And then she left. 

Bellamy sat down in her chair, and he cried like a child does – all noise and heaving sobs, the kind of crying that would have been attention seeking if there’d been anyone near by to hear. He cried himself out – cried because he felt betrayed, and he cried because he felt as though he had no hope. It wasn’t until after he’d finished crying because he had nothing else to cry with that he saw how freeing that could be. He was free of everything because he’d forgive Octavia eventually, so there was no pressure to do that, and he was free because if he had no hope with Clarke at all, he lost nothing from calling her. In fact, he was promised to gain from getting to hear her speak and know consciously what he was beginning to suspect he might have been aware of all along – Clarke was his soul mate, and he was in love with her. And he wanted that for himself, even if he also knew that it was undoubted selfish. 

Even if he knew that she’d be right to reject him. 

So he waited until he trusted himself to speak, and he picked up the phone. 

\-------

“Oh my god, Raven, RAVEN!” Clarke screamed, and Raven started running from the kitchen to the living room, where they’d agreed to spend the day reading quietly. Of course, the two rooms were barely two steps apart, so it barely took a breath. 

“What? Are you okay?” 

“Uh huh. Raven… Raven, it’s Bellamy.” Clarke was staring at the phone, unable to tear her eyes away from it, softly vibrating with Bellamy’s name on the front. 

“Pick it up then, dummy!” Raven cried, but she sat down supportively next to Clarke. 

Clarke picked up, holding the phone to her ear like it was a bomb getting ready to explode. 

“Hello?”

“Uh, hi Clarke, it’s me. Um, it’s Bellamy.” He sounded nervous.

“Hi.” Clarke couldn’t help but sound a little unsure and cagey. But hearing his voice felt like a balm.

“Uh, hi. Um, look Clarke; I know how this must look, me calling you out of the blue when we haven’t talked for a month after everything I did… But I wanted to tell you that I’m sorry.” Clarke blinked, surprised. She supposed she’d expected this conversation to drift directly to ‘Well it turns out we’re soul mates and I think that means we should try again.’ But it hadn’t. Bellamy had taken the time to first apologise, and she was grateful for it. 

“Oh.” 

“Yeah… I screwed up, Clarke, and there hasn’t been a second since that I haven’t regretted it, leaving you, hurting you. And I’m truly sorry, and I know there’s nothing I can do now to fix it.” 

“No, there’s not really.” Clarke said softly, because it was true. 

The conversation hung there for a while, dead. Clarke wasn’t going to scramble to make this better for him, because that wasn’t her job, and he either didn’t know what to say or didn’t have anything more to say. 

“Clarke…” He said it like the beginnings of a prayer, the way some people say ‘home’. “I miss you. And I know I screwed up, but I want to give it another go. And I won’t lie to you again, I won’t keep secrets. I’ll do right by you, Clarke. Like I should have the first time... Please.” 

Suddenly, Clarke felt very afraid. “I miss you too, Bellamy.” And it sounded like she’d meant to say ‘home’ when she said his name too. 

Again, the conversation died down for a minute. Maybe two. 

“Clarke? Before I ask you out on a date, because that is what I intend to do, I think you should know something, something that’s probably going to make the context of this phone call seem much worse.” 

“If it’s that we’re soul mates, it’s okay Bell. I already know.” 

“Oh, good..." Another pause, and the crackle of a deep breath taken over the other end of the phone. "So, can I please take you out to lunch so that we can talk things through?” He still sounded strangely nervous. 

Clarke hesitated for a moment, their last conversation suddenly fresh in her mind. But she pushed it away. “Yeah, I think you can, Bellamy.” 

“Thank you.” And he truly did sound grateful, like he’d just been granted a new lease on life, like his death penalty had just been lifted. 

“I’ll text you the details.”

“See you soon, Clarke.”

“See you soon.” Clarke hung up. 

“Wow, are the two of you getting back together?” Raven asked, hope in her eyes. It surprised Clarke, actually… she didn’t realise that that was what Raven had been hoping for, for her. But now that she thought about it, she realised that that was in fact what she wanted, now that she thought that there was a chance of it happening with it all blowing up in her face. 

“I… hope so.” Clarke whispered. Raven hugged her, eyes sparkling. 

“Okay, let’s wake up Wells.” She instructed. 

\-------

Clarke had texted Bellamy with the address of the café they’d been to on their very first date, so that was where he found himself standing outside in the middle of the lunch rush on the Saturday after their talk. She hadn’t sent anything else, and Bellamy had been growing more and more nervous. He couldn’t help but relieve all the ways he’d screwed up, and he was beginning to loath himself, and who he’d let himself become. 

It was that that held him firmly in place on the other side of the door. It was wooden, thick, and he knew from experience that it was heavy. Heavy enough to keep in the air con inside, and to mean that he had to throw himself against it for it to open. Yet he couldn’t quite bring himself to do so. He stood there for an eternity, he would have sworn before any jury. He couldn’t bring himself to move, and he refused to leave, knowing that would also be a dick move that he would completely regret for the rest of his existence. So he was stuck, at a standstill. 

Then, all of a sudden, like magic, he felt that strange feeling that had haunted him the night he met Clarke, the night he’d stood outside the bar trying to decide what to do. It again felt like he was pulled inside, like he’d found his centre and all he had to do was step into it, like he’d been lost in the night his whole life and he knew that light awaited him on the other side. Again, he found his hand, shaking, on the wooden door. 

But this time it was completely different, too. Because he knew that the light that was waiting for him was Clarke, and that he would never let her go again, not ever. 

It was as though he’d been given a push through all his self-doubt and fear and regret and been reminded that Clarke still wanted him, still wanted to try. And not just because their names fit because of some stupid computer program that he had almost let ruin his life… but because she cared. Because she hoped for their future. Because she was Clarke and she was overflowing with love. 

He shoved against the door, hard enough for it to fly open, because he loved her, had never stopped loving her, and because he was finally ready to admit that he was ready for whatever loving her would bring. Because whatever issues he had, they were made lighter by being with Clarke. 

And there she was, light reflecting off of her hair, texting someone, no doubt Raven or Wells. She looked up at him, and he found himself offering a timid smile, soft and gentle and so full of hope it almost hurt; and she was smiling back. He walked over, and sat down across from her. 

“So… How have you been?” She asked, and the conversation just flowed from there, with the same ease as it always had, even if the topics were more difficult to deal with. She mentioned wanting to go to relationship therapy together, and even though at first his stomach rebelled against the idea, he saw the benefits of it, and he agreed. 

Besides, it would be worth it to be able to move forward with the love of his life in a healthy long-term relationship. 

They talked about Octavia, and how they felt about that. Clarke was honest with him, which he was grateful for, and told him that she wasn’t happy – but she also told him that she’d forgive her – it’d just take some time. Bellamy told her that he was in the same boat, and she nodded gravely, and he understood that that was her way of showing him that she supported him still. Even after everything, and he knew they’d make it. 

As they prepared to leave, Bellamy suddenly caught her looking at him as though he was a puzzle she was trying to solve. “Clarke?”

“Huh? Oh, sorry. It’s just… Soul mates, huh? Who would have known that you’d be my alliterative name?” 

“Yep. And who’d have known that Clarke Smith would be my soul mate?” They laughed, and Bellamy knew it was a beginning. 

“I love you, Clarke.” He watched her take a deep breath, and for a split second he panicked. He’d never said it before, afraid of the permanence of it, but it had been true for a very, very long time. 

“I love you too, Bellamy. I never stopped.” She whispered, and suddenly they were kissing and Bellamy knew that he’d found his centre – and he was never leaving it again. 

\--------

Some days, Clarke couldn’t believe her luck. 

A long time had passed since she’d used the name Clarke Smith, but she’d been right all those years ago – using it had changed her irrevocably. 

Of course, getting to where she was now had been difficult, sometimes it had felt impossibly so. Therapy had been really important for her and Bellamy, and she knew that it had dealt with a lot of their issues really well, issues they might otherwise still be haunted by. 

It had taken her a long time to forgive Octavia, or at least it had felt that way at the time, maybe a year and a half for their friendship to begin again. It had only taken Bellamy a few weeks, and he’d been talking to her again after one and a half. Clarke had had to work very hard not to begrudge that, but now, three years after she’d found out who her soul mate was, she and Octavia were firm friends, and they’d become much more honest with each other (And Octavia had stopped keeping secrets, or at least ones that didn't pertain to clothing). Of course, Raven and Wells were still her closest friends. 

On days like that one it was almost difficult to believe they’d ever had any troubles ever, Clarke decided. She and Bellamy and Octavia and Lincoln and Raven and Jasper and Monty and Miller and Murphy were all in a hired minivan and driving up towards Clarke and Bellamy’s favourite autumn haunt. They knew that by now the trees would be on fire with colour, and they’d be able to have a perfect day. 

So they drove for hours, ribbing at each other and in companionable silence until they arrived, laughing as they immediately began making leaf piles. Octavia and Lincoln's was the biggest, but only just, and only because Bellamy and Clarke had stopped half way to have a mini leaf fight, giving the other couple the edge, while the others tried too hard to sabotage each others. They had a picnic lunch, laughing the entire time. 

It was truly a perfect day. 

Of course, the fact that after lunch and before the cookies that she and Raven had baked for dessert Bellamy had sunk down on one knee and asked her to marry him had improved the day some. (She didn’t cry) (Much) (And of course she said yes – after all, wasn’t Bellamy Blake her alliteratively named soul mate? She wouldn’t want to deny fate or anything)

\-----

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finished!!
> 
> Thank you so much to everyone who's been watching this grow, and for sticking with it and me! (Sorry for the really long wait for the last chapter by the way) And an especially big thank you to all the lovely people who sent kudos and commented, you guys give me life. 
> 
> If you liked this you can follow me on tumblr at justanoutherfangirl.tumblr.com, and I'll likely be working on something new in the near future. Also, if you ever have anything you'd like to see written feel free to send me a prompt and I'll be happy to give it a whirl!

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you guys like this - I'll try and update within a week or so!


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